Wingman

ALT

A Place at Your Table — Chapter 3/7

Love is a place at someone you love’s table. Bakugou Katsuki… is still looking for that place. A Pro Hero!AU where Bakugou, after enduring a decade-long crush on one Todoroki Fuyumi, meets—you.

word count: ~10,750 tags: pro hero!au, aged up characters

There’s room for an invitation there, if Katsuki wants to make it. Instead, he hedges.

click here to read on ao3

other links: spotify playlist | fic tag | chapter recipe (yakisoba~)

Oh, and Happy Birthday @andypantsx3!

ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony - mlist ᰔ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎status. ongoing

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad

ꨄ︎ words: probably 30k-40k total

ꨄ︎ a/n. this was a request from a lovely anon ♡ and apparently i cannot write short fics for the life of me because it turned into something big lol, halp..

ꨄ︎ taglist: open

ꨄ︎ chapters

ch 1 // circumstances and commitments

ch 2 // under the spotlight

ch 3 // pending..

ch 4 // pending..

taglist: @geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie @shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie @poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana @sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher @ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7 @angelina7890 @justoblivious2u @aruraa

𝓐𝓵𝓶𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓐𝓵𝔀𝓪𝔂𝓼 𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼 — the anthology

desc. collection of heavy angst mini-series, pure hurt no comfort. set in the same universe.

notes. posting date tbd. target to start after sn/sy. only 5 episodes each.

[S1] 𝓑𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓵𝔂 𝓑𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭

↳ ryomen sukuna/reader

following a one-night stand with renowned music producer ryomen sukuna, an accidental pregnancy leaves you grappling with the pain of being kept in secrecy as nothing more than an obligation for him. because in his world, the only people he truly cares about are his 4-year old daughter and his ex-fiancée.

[S2] 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓎 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊

↳ gojo satoru/reader (feat. geto suguru)

when gojo satoru wakes up from a coma with no memories of his own wife, you struggle to reconnect and remind him of the love you once shared. not when all he remembers is having that same love with someone from his past.

－Top 10 legendary Zuko lines !

sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat

ph! katsuki bakugou x fem! (though i don't state pronouns) reader summary: katsuki realizes his feelings a little too late contains: mentions of sex, angst (with a maybe happy ending) word count: 2.8k words masterlist

Under the shadows of the coming morning—the sun rising through the blinds of the bedroom windows in your apartment—Katsuki liked to pretend that you were his. 

Just his. 

He tended to be up earlier than you anyways—with years of waking up for hero work instilled in his sleep schedule—but he liked that time. It was quiet in the mornings; only the sounds of the early morning traffic and the birds nested in the tree next to your apartment to keep him company besides your breathing: breaths that were soft and sweet and slow. 

He would curl his palm over your cheek, pressing your figure closer to his as he watched your chest rise and fall under him, stroking your skin softly with his rough thumb—because you were his in that moment. 

Just his.

In those times, he would forget what the reality of his life was—the way you would stare at him tiredly every time he knocked on your door past 1 am, the lingering feeling of your fingers on his cheeks when he leaned in for a kiss, how you would oblige him no matter how many times you’d called him while drunk and upset, the kisses he left on your forehead before he left you alone the next morning—

—That you were not his and he was not yours, no matter how many times he liked to repeat it to himself.

It’s because of my work—he said to himself in the morning, stroking your hair out of your face.

It’s because I don’t have the time to commit—he whispered, nestling himself into the crook of your neck so he could smell the lingering scent of mint, strawberries, and sex.

If only we met under different circumstances… If only my job wasn’t so demanding… If only it was easier… If only I could commit…

If only…

After a while, you only nodded when he whispered those words at three am and your head was resting on his bare chest—like you believed him. 

(Before you would get upset, turn away, tell him to leave—and the cycle would repeat.)

You’d kiss his neck in acknowledgment, curling up in his arms like a cat would—uncaring, unaware. 

He wished he could do the same; just accept the reality in front of him. 

But it didn’t matter, because right now, you were his. 

Just his.

It was the complacency that let the cycle continue; but it was the complacency that became his downfall. He realized this when he stopped leaving you after ten minutes of waking up—waiting for the pink sky to turn bright, watching your eyes flutter open under the light of forthcoming day, the small smile that creeped into your eyes when you realized he was still there—mornings spent in the kitchen drinking coffee and sharing laughs while you paraded around in the sweatshirt he left the first time he came over. 

(It was his favorite in school—black and oversized with a small embroidered insignia of All Might above the right breast.

He didn’t even know he’d lost it until you came out wearing it one morning—and some of his old cologne was still lingering on the collar.)

He let himself forget—deluded himself—into thinking it would last. That he wouldn’t eventually have to pull away, and the dream-like haze he’d lost himself in with you wouldn’t end.

Just his.

It happened five weeks later, after a month-long mission: the morning after, and you were standing in a shirt that wasn’t his with a coffee mug pressed up to your lips like it would hide what you were about to say.

“I think… I think we should end this here, Katsuki.”

The words didn’t register at first, and he stood there staring—trying to come up with an answer.

“This?”

“...us.” Your lips pressed together solemnly, as if whispering a prayer under your breath—and you let out a tired sigh. So very tired. “Our relationship.”

He grunted, unwilling to open his mouth in retaliation. The fear that had been festering in his head began to rise, ugly and thick like bile coming up his throat—and he stood still, silently, staring at the coffee you made for him with too much sugar in the mug he got you from a mission a couple months ago. 

“...I’ve been seeing someone,” you let out—but Katsuki didn’t dare look at your face; Venom sat at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spit out—

—Because you were supposed to be his. 

Just his. “Don’t call it a relationship,” he settled on—enough spite in his voice that he knew it would deter you. “It never was one.”

He expected you to look relieved when he finally stared up at you again, but your expression seemed more soured than before: like you were expecting a different answer to push past his lips. It was quickly replaced though, by a smile that didn’t seem to meet your eyes like they did when you’d wake up in the morning to still find him in bed next to you, before taking another sip of your too-sweet coffee.

“Thank you, Katsuki.”

He didn’t know what you were thanking him for—your time together? For letting you go when you’d both been hooking up like this for almost a year?

And he wasn’t even sure why it felt so bitter. He’d known from the beginning that, whatever this was, wouldn’t last forever. 

Why would you stay in something like this, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to give you more than the little bit of time he already did? Why wouldn’t you want someone who consistently woke up with you in the morning to give you breakfast in bed, or brought you flowers after work, or could take you out in the evenings for dinner?

You deserved that—you deserved all of it. 

So why did he think (hope) you would settle for the little moments he offered you when you could have the world?

He kept his face blank when he left your apartment that morning—drilling the hole in his brain that had been dedicated to you in silence—simultaneously missing the sound of sobbing that came from your apartment as soon as he stepped out the door. 

He thought he would be okay—that in a week or so, it’d be back to how it was without you. 

But it wasn’t.

One week turned into two; two weeks turned into four; and four weeks turned into sitting at the bar, drunk while still in his hero outfit, with Kirishima sitting next to him as he rambled on about you.

You were the only thing he thought about, the only thing he could think about—he missed the scent of your body wash, the warmth of your skin on his, the small teasing smiles you’d give and the dimple that only appeared on one cheek, the too-sweet coffee he’d subject himself to drinking, watching the sunrise while feeling you laying next to him…

Everything about you felt like home.

He’d even gotten distracted the other day during a villain attack because there was a civvie who looked just like you in the line of fire and he’d panicked. 

“It was such a fuckin’ rookie, stupid ass mistake, and I still made it,” he took the last sip of his pint before letting out a small, frustrated grunt because it was finished. 

Eijirou moved to prevent Katsuki from flagging the bartender down for a refill—he was drunk enough after two pints; instead, he signaled for the check while Katsuki groaned in response.

“I’m not fuckin’ finished.”

“Yes, you are,” Eijirou stared at him with a pinched expression. “You have patrol first thing in the morning—you’ll thank me for it then.”

Katsuki huffed under his breath in resignation—unfortunately Eijirou was correct. Not only that, but the upcoming lecture he knew would be coming from the higher ups would be infinitely worse with a splitting hangover. 

“I’ll pay for it,” Eijirou shooed him off his barstool. “Just go stand outside for a bit, maybe the cold will help sober you up a little before you go to sleep.”

Katsuki could only huff in response; his mind was swimming and blurred and his head felt heavy enough that he could only comply with what Eijirou had said—he’d have to pay him back for it later. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he trudged outside. 

The late-winter-early-spring winds nipped against his skin as soon as the door shut behind him, and Katsuki pulled the scarf he was wearing higher up to fully cover his neck and chin—shifting uncomfortably in the cold while he waited for Kirishima. The street was basically empty except for the couple people walking in and out of the bar; he guessed that it was too cold for people to be wandering around at night. Most of the shops on the streets were closed too, leaving the only illumination to come from the blinking street lamps that lined the sidewalk and the gibbous moon above.

“What’s takin’ so fuckin’ long…” he muttered under his breath—trying to peer into the window to see what Kirishima was doing. 

When he turned back, he spotted a couple walking in the distance; though he couldn’t make out their faces, their intertwined hands and the closeness they exuded was enough. Katsuki could see his breath in the air when he sighed, loudly, mind buried in the memories of what could have been—until they were close enough that he could make out their faces: and he realized, it was you.

And you looked happy with the extra, he couldn’t lie—all cheeky, rosy smiles and giggles as he told you some joke that he could barely get through without laughing himself; you were holding a bouquet of pink and yellow tulips in one hand, with the other hand clasped in his (which he occasionally brought up to his lips to kiss the back of); he was carrying both the leftovers of the restaurant you both just went to and a shopping bag from a store you’d always liked.

You looked… at peace—with yourself, your situation.

But as happy as you looked, he couldn’t help the ugly, selfish feeling boiling in the back of his throat.

Because you were just his.

Because… that should’ve been him.

It should’ve been him—holding your hand, leading you through the night with confidence, and the other holding everything you wanted to buy while you smiled and giggled on his arm. 

You’d love teasing him. You’d loved spending time with him, as little as it was.

And though he’d refused it for so long, you’d loved him too.

He’d spent weeks, months, trying to ignore that fact when the two of you were together, if you could even classify it as that—and here he was, stuck in the same fucking position; he was destined to just watch you from afar as you moved on from the cycle he’d pushed you into, while he lost himself in it instead.

Maybe he was just selfish.

Katsuki didn’t even know when he started following you both, distantly (maybe he couldn’t help it, maybe he just wanted to make sure you reached home safe)—Eijirou was an afterthought at that point—and when you’d finally reached your apartment.

The extra even offered to come up and drop the bags off so you wouldn’t have to carry them up the stairs yourself, but you declined: kissing him shortly before waving goodbye and watching him leave. 

Watching you kiss him seemed to wake Katsuki up, his glazed over eyes finally seeming to register his surroundings: the streetlamps overhead, the light from the apartments lining the building, the little crack in the paint of the building where he’d once apprehended a villain to save you, you staring at him—

—you were staring at him? Katsuki didn’t shift from where he was standing as you walked up to him, leftovers and shopping and tulips forgotten on the sidewalk in front of your apartment.

“Katsuki?” Your lips barely moved, and your hands were pressed to your sides. You were trembling slightly—and he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or him.

He didn’t answer; he couldn’t will his mouth to open in front of you.

“Wh–What are you doing here?”

Even worse, he couldn’t bear to tell you the truth.

“I uh… I was on patrol nearby.”

You stared off to that little crack in the painted wall as if you were reminiscing, avoiding his gaze—your fingers rubbing together red in the cold with wobbly knuckles.

You were freezing.

“Here,” he grunted, slowly pulling his scarf from under his neck to hand it to you. Your expression instantly changed, and though you tried to dissuade him, the visible puffs of air coming from your nose were enough to tell him that it was something you needed.

“I… Thank you…” you whispered, letting him wrap it around you. “You always said you hated the cold, so…”

“Doesn’t matter. You clearly need it more than I do.”

This was his final act, he’d decided. He couldn’t hold you back any longer—not when he couldn’t give you what you wanted and needed out of him; no, it was what you deserved. Maybe his final act of stupidity would mean enough to him in the future that he’d be able to move on; and maybe one day the stupid scarf would just be a memento you had, instead of a reminder of the hurt he knew he’d brought.

And it was all so fucking dumb and poetic—standing in the spot you’d both met, saying your final goodbyes with your happy ending just waiting in the distance: waiting for him to get out of your life so it could be whole and right again.

But when you turned around, and started walking back towards the tulips he never bought you, leftovers from the restaurants where he never took you, and the clothes he’d never offered to buy—your apartment where his sweatshirt was laying in the first, top drawer of your dresser—the words were choked out of his throat.

Because you were supposed to be just his.

And maybe the alcohol in his system had the influence, but he couldn’t let you go: not when you were the best thing that’d ever happened in his entire life. 

The echoing sound of boots slapping loudly against the pavement and your name being called out by his heavy cries was enough to stop you in your tracks—and at first he thought it was because you didn’t want to see him again: but when he called your name once more and you turned around, he learned it was because you were already crying.

“I…I love you,” he whispered when he was close enough, fighting the urge to wipe your tears away like his own weren’t following quickly behind.

“Katsuki…” you smeared your cold fingers over your face, trying to wipe away the evidence that kept falling. “I-I…Y-You…Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for those words to come out of your lips?” you couldn’t really stop the tears from falling now—and he could only pathetically watch as they did. “Do you know how much I’ve fucking ached and cried over those three stupid fucking words? And now… Now that I finally feel okay, you’re standing here—pretending like you can make it alright again? How can you–”

“I love you,” he repeated, grounding his stance in the pavement. He couldn’t let you slip straight through his fingers. “I’ve loved you since I blasted that idiot against that wall to save you. I’ve loved you since you dressed my wounds in your apartment. I’ve loved you since we met at that coffee shop again down the street. I’ve loved you through every night spent together, and through every mission spent away…” He repeated your name once more, cradling your face in his rough, cold palms like he would an oath to his heart. “And—m’sorry… I-I know I was a fuckin’ idiot this whole time not realizin’ it, and you can hate me all you want but I… I just needed you to know, ‘kay?—I couldn’t let you walk out of my life without knowing.”

He couldn’t even face you anymore, not when he could feel the tear that’d begun leaking down his cheek at the thought of you rejecting his admission: a secret he’d kept close to his heart, burying it underneath years of repression and loathing.

And now it was out in the open, left for you to stomp on if you wanted to.

“You say that now, Katsuki,” you uttered, the tears now drying on your cheeks. “But we both know that whatever this is isn’t gonna last.” You scoffed bitterly, putting your hands over his—perhaps in an attempt to remove them from where they were plastered to your skin—but instead they just rested over his while your bottom lip wobbled dangerously. 

He knew you were right. He knew that everything you said was true.

And yet—

—he kissed you anyway. 

Because you knew: that you were just his and he was just yours.

A Circle of Salt | Fic Cover

Minors and ageless blogs, DO NOT interact.

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x F!Reader

Summary: With the end of the Great War and his father’s death, Prince Shouto must find his and his kingdom’s place in a rapidly changing world. As a result, the Todoroki Kingdom has finally opened its doors to its neighbors after centuries of isolation. You see this as an opportunity to not only advance in your career as a lowly government aid but to also take advantage of the tropical island as your new office space.

However, with the nobility working to maintain their status quo, there’s another reason why it may be difficult for you and Shouto to achieve your goals – the prince seems to have misunderstood what sort of partnership you seek with him.

Read Chapter 1 on AO3!

✎ᝰ. OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING - katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

[CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST] katsuki bakugou as the beast + monster fucking. once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while ( 10.3K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, beauty & the beast!au, enemies to lovers, bath sex, soft sex, cum play, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, pussy jobs, body modifications, tummy bulges, premature orgasms, marking, biting, belle + fem!reader, beast!katsuki bakugou.

✧ fairy godmother's note - hello, time for our second kinktober fic yippieee!! i think this is my second time doing bakugou and monster fucking...he's just perfect for it!! anyways, enjoy my loves! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

the beast wasn’t all that bad. 

at least, not compared to most people back home. 

in the village, beyond the forest’s edge and hidden by evergreen foliage — the townsfolk believe you to be as beautiful as the world around you. eyes as bright as the golden sun rising over a hilly horizon. skin as soft as the flesh of fresh fruits hanging low from the trees. a voice that compliments that of early morning birds — gentle, kind. you’re the perfect vision. a perfect person. except for your one fatal flaw. 

you have your wits about you. it makes you strange. 

the people of your village think you were peculiar for having the tip of your nose poked into the spine of of a book each and every day. it’s not your fault that you enjoy the scent of their pages or that you find every story so alluring that you could read it over once or twice (and sometimes thrice). the people back home were unnerved by your intelligence — staring at you sideways if you daydreamed for a little too long (wishing for a life outside of your tiny province, one  full of adventure) or sending you concerned stares if you stumbled over your steps while reading.

it didn’t help that your papa was a whimsical inventor — his intricate machines that coughed and spluttered a little too loudly and left him covered in soot were often the talk of the town, worsening the whispers. despite the cruel opinions of others, papa’s love for you never faltered, all the while promising you that his prized tools would get you out of town, away from the people who called you odd and strange —  they thought him just as crazy as you. like father like daughter, you suppose.

then there was shindou. the most sought after bachelor in all of town and quite possibly the worst part about your old life. your life before the beast. the man was handsome, that much was true — his eyes and hair an inky black that would draw anyone in like a misty night. features, chiselled and strength obvious. shindou was pretty, eye candy without an ounce of brains. conversation with him felt like watching paint dry, he spoke so highly of himself you often wondered how his head hadn’t imploded from getting so big. for some reason, he was hellbent on making you his wife. not because you were smart, or liked to read and explore, but because to him… you were a pretty prize to be treasured.

so, when you stumbled upon the beast’s castle that night and gave up your freedom in exchange for your father’s, you hadn’t realised how lucky you were to be away from yo shindou and his crew. the village too. still, that didn’t take away from the harsh reality of your new prison. an enchanted castle, enclosing you in with the mangy beast. 

in strange ways, as strange as your mind, you found in your heart to feel sympathy for the beast, or bakugou as you’d come to know him. for many years he’d been cursed with a form cruel to the human eye — shaggy blonde fur, wild and blood red eyes and horns that were comparable to the devils. his selfish nature and a spell from hundreds of years ago had not been kind to the creature. from the sounds of things ( stories from the seemingly…alive…furniture existing within the walls of his withering home ) bakugou had failed to show concern or care in his youth, by taking a rose from a haggard old woman in exchange for a night’s worth of shelter. in return, she cursed him with the looks of a beast until he could find true love. 

his staff ( the furniture ) had told you of his crumbling hope and damaged heart. it still didn't excuse his odd behaviour — where the princely beast told rather than asked, scratched and smashed rather than communicated. he was much angrier than the other inhuman inhabitants of the enchanted castle. though…sometimes you noticed a tenderness swirling between the brown flecks within katsuki’s vermillion eyes, rich with a longing for affection that filled you with warmth whenever you caught him staring at you reading in the library he’d set up just for you or when he’d take you outside to feed the birds in the snow together. 

other times, katsuki could be somewhat…charming. since arriving, you could tell that he was doing his best to become a gentleman who toned down his anger. he fiddled with cutlery too small for his claws during meals with you just to be polite — denying his blush with a petulant pout whenever he was caught. he tried not to stare too long or at the wrong places whenever you spoke and spent time together. he wasn’t like shindou, who drooled over you like you were a piece of meat fresh from a roast. 

for a long time, you all but wished to find someone who understood you — who’d nurture your mind and the wind beneath your wings rather than see you as a prized pet bird to be kept in a cage. and over time, you had naively began to believe that katsuki, the beast, might have been the only person in this whole world to see you exactly the way you wanted to be seen. the hope that you had met your match flickered like a small candle’s flame in your heart — it reflected as a small glint of light in katsuki’s once exhausted, pessimistic eyes. you thought, day by day, that you could be happy here. with the beast. in place of your village back home.

just when you thought katsuki was changing, that maybe you could be happy here with the beast — you’re thrown back into a reality you had tried so hard not to face. katsuki is a beast, a cruel monster keeping you a prisoner in his home. you are not a friend who has free roam over his castle or free will under his rein, you’re reminded that you’re his captive in exchange for your father’s remaining life. your wake up call comes in the form of an argument, the result of stumbling across the forbidden east wing and a rose petal that wilts so pretty in the centre of an abandoned room. 

“i thought i fuckin told you never to come in here!” you could see it in his frenzied eyes, how the trust you’d built up with the beast so quickly came tumbling down. you’d crossed a line and an unspoken rule and no matter how many times the word sorry poured from between your plush lips — bakugou the beast was far beyond the point of forgiveness. he couldn’t trust you, and you couldn’t trust him. “leave!” he’d bellowed, snarled like a warning sign. 

katsuki had lashed out at you in a way you’d never seen before. like a wild animal backed into a corner. he’d shown you fangs and growled at you in a noise you know for sure humans don’t make. “get the fuck out!” he roared until you were trembling, throwing whatever he could get his clawed hands on whilst  splintering wood and shattering porcelain. 

you’d done just that, dashing down flights of stairs in terror while throwing your cape on. 

the inhabitants, his little candleholder sero and tiny clock denki along with the others, had tried to stop you. begging you not to face the cold bitter night alone on your horse but your judgement was far too clouded by your emotions — the hurt and betrayed wounds inflicted by the beast who’s trust you thought you had earned. the snowstorm outside rages with your unstable state, how could he scream at you like that? how could he say those awful things? it’s not long before you’re lost the ice cold and the daunting wolves that assume you’re a prey item like a vulnerable deer instead of a young girl with bambi eyes. 

viscous, wild, teeth and tongue snap at your horse — threatening to wound you both and draw blood. the animal that you ride, in turn, throws you to the ground in favour of its own escape. 

you can’t even blame the poor creature, only fools risk their lives to be at the mercy of a beast.

yet, your beast, your bakugou moved without thinking to save you from a bitter end. you recognise his growls before you see him — and before you know it the limp bodies of wolves that attacked you go flying over your head. their own howls and growls turn to pathetic puppy whimpers as bakugou fights them off, tooth and nail. fighting with all his might to protect you from getting your throat torn out. even if he’d frightened you, screamed at you and broken your trust — he wasn’t about to lose you to a brutish winter and a pack of hungry wolves. the blonde creature fights until his burly body is done and his claws are tainted with the blood of his enemies — wearily looking for you, checking you for wounds in such a gentle way you’re surprised out of your skin. heart racing.

you’ve never seen katsuki look at you that way, as  though he was just as terrified of you dying as you were at the thought dying yourself. its not long before his adrenaline wears off and the wounds he’d gotten from his battle finally take their toll on him.

it gives you the chance to run. to escape. to be home with your father. 

but what would be waiting for you at the other end? a marriage to a man with half a brain and six children to fill the void. people who thought you mad and crazy? you’d made a promise to stay with him, for your father’s life. there was no other choice but to lug bakugou back to his castle using all of your might. to help him. to save him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. 

at least that’s what you’d told yourself as a way of pretending not not to care for him.

piping hot water sloshes around in the pearlescent tub, fit only for royalty. it’s taken you some time to fill it up to full volume with the help of some of the castles staff… or inanimate objects. momo the sweet little tea pot had been working overtime to boil fresh batches until the water level was high enough for the beast. you’re sure that her stout had nearly given out, but for her master, she’d pushed on. her dedication, all of their dedication (the candleholder, the little clock, the pots and pans and foot rests and dusters) make you wonder what had truly become of this place, a crumbling castle so dark and gloomy that it was left for ruin.

was the beast really worth all of this trouble for all of them to stay by his side and endure his foul demeanour?  

then again, why were you also tending to the beast? it’s not as if you enjoyed his company, yet you stay, drawing this bath to help tend to his wounds. the wounds he had gotten as a result of protecting you. 

you spare him your gaze once the bellowing creature ( now unusually quiet ) enters the room; no longer tailed by his animated inanimate servants — nothing but a roll of steam and a wall of silence separating the two of you now. though it’s hard not to look at how well he’s built beneath patches of straw blonde fur. 

katsuki’s arms are burly and toned, his chest is well sculpted as if carved from the very same stone that makes up the beautiful interior of his castle, whilst the angle of the beast’s face is strong, handsome. you wonder what he may look like completely human, if his jaw would still be sharp enough to cut through marble and diamonds. if his eyes would be narrowed and fiery, swirling with the riches of ruby gems. it takes all your willpower to tear your secretive stare away from him while he undresses in front of you, as though you’re not even there, heat growing rapidly in the middle of your face like the epicentre of an earthquake.

water sloshes violently as his hulking frame sinks into the bath, tinging it an ink stain of rosey pink from where it warmly laps over his open wounds — the sound of water hitting the smooth stone floor lets you know that you can turn around to tend to him. you keep your gaze lowered and mindful as you work, wringing a soft linen cloth in a clearer pot of the liquid mixed with rubbing alcohol. “h-hey, don’t do that,” you scold gently, lips falling into an unimpressed frown as the beast moves to lick at his cuts and scratches. bakugou pauses and squints at you menacingly while you reach for the same soggy paw he’d been tending to. you’d laugh if he weren’t so wounded and you weren’t so scared — he looked like a kitten. “i need to clean them properly.” 

an ignorant scoff from the blonde tangles with the soapy steam in the air, only earns him a roll of your eyes and a frustrated glare — his head angling itself away from you because he doesn’t want to give in and admit that your call of action would be right. you find it childish that he would ignore you but take to dabbing the first bleeder that you find with your alcohol soaked cloth, ensuring that it’s completely clean. the stinging sensation at the opening of the wound causes katsuki to roar at you in pain, baring the sharp edge of his teeth as if to threaten you with them.

you jump back, knowing that one wrong move could have you torn up by vicious claws and teeth. “just hold still!” you snap, raising your hands out of the way. “stop being such a baby and let me help you!”

“that fucking hurts, watch it.” he spits hotly, nostrils flared in annoyance. 

beginning to shake from a mix of anger and fear, you throw the bloodied cloth in your hand to the edge of the tub. the beast doesn’t look at you and your own temper flares. your face scrunches furiously and a cool snarl lays on the tip of your tongue — your own way of trying to put out the flames before they end in a disastrous blow out. 

“if you’d just kept still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

crimson roses bloom on the surface of the water and bakugou whirls around sharply, both of your chests rising and falling at the impending explosion threatening to blow smoke into the crowded bathroom. “well, if you hadn’t have run away ‘nd straight into a shitty wolf’s den, then this wouldn’t have fucking happened!” he growls back with the air of a petulant child. 

“well you hadn’t fucking frightened me, i wouldn’t have run away!” your petty mouth surprises bakugou, you almost seem too pretty to curse — from the moment you’d first arrived at the cursed castle; your beauty had been a breath of fresh hair, hope for a brighter future on the horizon but since being cursed, any charm the beast… the prince might have had wore away over the years. leaving a husk of the man he once was, you have him stumped and spluttering for words, causing his staff behind the closed door to laugh.

an argument, though childish and silly, brews between you both like a storm coming from over a hill. neither of you dare to back down, not caring if you leave deeper and more emotional wounds on one another. katsuki doesn’t know how people work and you’re exhausted, missing home — the pair of you a ticking time bomb of disaster waiting to happen. “well… well, y’shouldn’t have been goin’ through my shit in the west wing!” bakugou reacts before he thinks, wet talons grabbing onto the crisp front of your shirt as he leers down, a gnarly growl clawing its way out of his throat to match the nasty sneer on his snout and lips. “i warned ya, shit happens when you don’t listen.” 

at the end of your tether, you forcefully push the herculean tyrannical beast back into the tub — using a surprising amount of might to fully submerge him in the hot water once more. “well you should learn to stop being such a stubborn brat and control your temper!” you’re hardly thinking rationally at this point, sick and tired of letting him think he can bully you into silence and submission… just because he’s big and has claws and sharp teeth that could rip meat from a live carcass. 

you move to shove him again but bakugou acts just as quickly — using his existing grip on you to yank you further into his bath. in a struggle and with a surprised scream that overlays his frustrated growling, you collapse against his furry chest and settle into his lap as water sloshes forcefully about the place and soaks through your dress — weighing down its fabric and slowing your movements. after a few minutes of wet wrestling; katsuki either gives up because of the pain caused by his cuts or refuses to fight you anymore — fully aware of what his size in comparison could do to you.

he slumps deeper into the tub, brooding, and an unbearable tension mounts in the air around you. the position has brought you face to face, breath mingling in the pocket of space and time between you both — above him, staggered forward, with your arms either side of his head for stability, katsuki feels that you’re close enough for him to reach out and just brush a thumb over the swell of your plush lips… gently grasp at your chin and maybe give you a kiss. he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you or why he lashes out at you in place of sharing his true emotions but the beast casts his ruby framed gaze to the side, avoiding entering the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

after a moment, any anger that either or you shared fizzles away like a sparkler doused in a bucket of icy water. shame replaces the fire in your veins and you quickly distract yourself from less than proper thoughts of the beast by get back to work on the bleeders in his arms. “n-now hold still…” you tell him, swallowing thickly which undermines the authority in your voice. “it’s going to sting… so please, let me help you.” your voice falls into a tender whisper as you resume dabbing at his injuries with the rag.

bakugou snarls barks roughly while you clean him  up but soon relaxes into the water, comforted by your soft vanilla scent and the warmth of your thighs around your waist to keep yourself steady. now that he’s no longer directing his anger at you, the atmosphere dissipates into something more affectionate, hearts beating in calm sync — you sitting on his lap looking so pretty while the lukewarm water carves out the shape of your body beneath wet clothes. 

“by the way, thank you for saving my life back there.” 

“you’re welcome,” eyes closing, bakugou lets out a shuddered breath, his voice thick with gravel and bidy fidgety beneath your own. despite the cooler water surrounding you both, the temperature in the room rises like a solar flair — especially when your proximity increases so that you can dab up to the gashes stretching across his handsome fully face. when your eyes meet again, admist the work, the blonde is overcome with the urge to kiss you. he surges forward and presses your foreheads together, a large marred and hand encasing the swell of you thigh to pin you to his lap. the movement is rough, disturbing the peaceful bath water but the kiss he gives you is careful and cautious — slightly chapped lips swooping upwards to catch yours in a cute chaste kiss. 

you jump at the sudden contact, your entire body tingling with release and an excitable heat flashes through you at the brief sensation. you taste the blood in his mouth and salt on his tongue but before you can fully enjoy the moment —  katsuki is gone as quickly as he came. leaning back into the tub with a flushed face. 

it’s like your body misses him when he’s gone; despite never having him like this before. “wait… wait,” desperate whispers pour from between your subtly glossed lips and your bath water soaked hands come up to cup the fluffy edges to his face. “kiss me. kiss me again, katsuki,” 

surprised by the lack of rejection; bakugou’s talons sink further into the doughiest part of your thighs torn between obliging your request and keeping you far, far away from him. no one has ever wanted something like that… like a kiss, from him of all people. a horrid, ugly and undeserving beast. and yet, you borderline beg above him, hardly distracting from the wet glint in your eyes. you want this. want him. “are you… are you sure?” he tries to ask you, preening into your dainty fingers as they comb back his wet fur. 

“i’m sure,” you hum against him, wanting. “please. it’s what i want.” 

for a moment; it doesn’t seem like katsuki s going to budge. you sense his hesitancy, some kind of mental block that makes him hold back even as he leans in haltingly and noses over your Cupid’s bow. it’s like he’s testing his own confidence and your patience wears thin — so you open your mouth to plead, to encourage him only for the blonde beast  to delve deep into the yearning hotness of your mouth. his lips move against yours with a feverish air, unleashing hundreds of years of pent up emotion and revealing just how touch starved he must have been all this time.

from what you can tell, the beast has been alone for a long rime — shunned for his looks and the cool ice cage around his heart. you’re not sure if you care about any of that, not right now, at least. for your body wins the war over your mind and heart, all worked up by the mash of teeth and tongue that from the basis of your kisses. he gives you what you asked for, long and thick tongue pressing into every unexplored crevice of your eager mouth — starting an itch in your lower belly that you know only bakugou would be able to reach. 

having the beast like this, hungry for passion, wandering claws and sharp edged teeth nipping at your lips makes you needier and needier. you sigh dreamily into the sloppy lip locks, losing all control and pushing your hips down against katsuki. rubbing your thighs together over his wide lap is no easy feat, but you try, dying to alleviate the ache brought on by toothy kisses and the possessive sounds he makes when you try to pull away for air. he grunts gluttorally when your clothed cunt accidentally brushes against his impressive bare girth — the only thing separating your sexes being the water logged gusset of your panties, linen and pure white in colour.

you can practically feel his cock twitch beneath your legs as you straddle the beast, peaking out through his golden fur and hardening by the minute. his size should be intimidating to you, just half hard and he’s practically the length of half your arm, even if you were to give it some thought … you’re far too distracted. mind far too hazy — katsuki tearing away from your kiss to stamp a frenzied pathway up your neck and marking it with his claim. the action proves to you that his bark indeed matches his bite when he wants it too, vicious red eyes mapping their way over the unmarked parts of your skin — licking and sucking bruises just beneath the surface that’ll be obvious to the staff in the morning. tender to the touch later on as well.

he doesn’t leave you in pain for too long, lapping over the inflamed areas with his heavy wet tong — a paw reaching out of the bath to settle on the back of your head so he can further relish in the way you weakly hang over him. “so soft….so delicate,” bakugou curiously seeks out more spots along the column of your throat to see which ones make you tick and sigh for him prettily, your warm, wet pussy reacting to his quiet raspy tone and clenching around the water in the tub. with shaky hands, you weave your digits into the roots of golden honey fur in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. dying to taste the beast yet again.

you want more. you want to go further. perhaps it’s the adrenaline from having almost lost your life earlier on in the night or maybe you just want to find some sick way to thank the creature that saved it. but all you know, is that you want the beast — right down to your very core. you whimper in frustration and your pulsating pussy rolls smoothly over the beast’s swelling erection floating in the bath water, it’s not enough to satisfy you when you’re burning for his tender touch this bad. “please,” you coo airly, head tilting where katsuki kisses the point at which your neck meets your jaw, tongue dragging over your pulse point. “please give me more of you.” 

it’s a big ask, you know. to ask katsuki to be vulnerable with you when you’ve just been at each other’s throats. but you’ve always wanted to know him, from the moment he decided to keep you here in his castle — you’ve wanted to know who he really is behind the fangs, claws and fur. what better time than to ask him now, when you’re grinding against him in a bathtub that barely fits him and dwarfs you by contrast. “why?” bakugou murmurs softly; his fur tacking to your wet skin.

“because… i know you want me too. i-i want to give myself to you.” you huff, shivering at the tenderness in his voice which differs to the black claws that rake up and down your inner thighs, sneaking past the hem of your damp skirts to the scalloped edge of your underwear. 

your hands still track their way through his sun kissed fur, lifting his head from your chest to have him look at you. his vermillion eyes drink in every inch of your darling face, puffy lips and doe eyes that glisten under the flickering candle light in the regal bathroom. fucking hell, you were right. he wanted you. ‘course he did. 

“if that’s what you wish…” bakugou’s chest rumbles as he speaks before capturing your lips in a chaste kiss, earning warm pools of your slick through your panties, right against his hard cock. he secures his hold on you and shifts to lift you both from the tub — presumably to continue this in his chambers as you grind and grab at him.

however, you tug harshly enough on his fur to make him falter — droplets of water splattering from his silky coat to the tub when he freezes in place (half out of the tub). “w-wait!” shaking your head, you push him back down into the water. “you’re still hurt a-and shouldn’t exert yourself. stay… let me say thank you and take care of the rest,” a beat of silence echoes throughout the room, katsuki unresponsive to your offer. self doubt invades the cave of your skull over your brain, perhaps stopping him had given him time to think this through and regret. perhaps he was caught up in the moment and the beast truly did not want you. you can’t tell, you haven’t been able to read him thus far. his fold demeanour being all that you know. “u-unless i misread this and have pushed past your limits. in which case i’m extremely sorry—“

steeling yourself and putting on a polite smile, you prepare for the worst — pushing yourself from bakugou’s lap in the face of silent rejection. yet, as you turn to leave, a clawed hand darts out to grip your waste and forcefully shakes water from the bathtub. the action keeps you cemented and spread over bakugou’s naked, wide lap and his expression morphs into that of kicked puppy, as though he regrets what he’s done to you already. or not responding to you sooner. 

hesitancy occupies the electrified air, dancing in a confusing concoction with the desire that once buzzed through it. 

“it’s not that i no longer want you or want this,” the blonde admits gruffly, keeping his eyes on the waves in the water and toying with a loose thread of your sodden skirts. “i haven’t been… kind to you since the start of your stay. i don’t even know if i fuckin’ deserve to have you like this,” in spite of holding back, katsuki’s lungs burn with brightly coloured lust and affection, in shades of fiery red and sunset orange. the steam taking residence in the tiled room trapping you both in the unmistakable heat of desire. “i want you. i do. but ‘m havin’ a hard time believing’ that you want the same. i don’t deserve it. i’m hideous.” 

“that’s not true,” you tell him earnestly, cradling his furry wet face between your pruning fingers in an attempt to reassure him. even though he’s at his most vulnerable, your heart flutters against your ribcage at katsuki’s honesty — the beast finally opening up to you. if that doesn’t fan the flames of your desperation for him, then nothing else will. “you’re not to me, bakugou… and if it’s my words you don’t believe, then let me show you. let me help you understand.”

silence resumes as you let your words sink in, hoping that at least one of them has touched the beast’s heart as he has done with yours. 

and all it takes is one small nod from katsuki to know that you have — forcing your way into his mouth ( with his consent ) once more, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the taste of bloody wolf against his teeth from earlier. the kiss is even more passionate than before, the both of you letting go of your inhibitions, swapping spit while your hands slip from the fur atop his head to run over the softer parts of his body. massaging and mapping out his strong pecs and beefy arms, appreciating every inch of the blonde beast so he never doubts your yearning for him again. 

the grinding resumes too, especially as katsuki’s affection-starved body grows used to your debauched touch and hungry kisses — head hitting the very end of the bathtub with a dull thud, sending water over its edge and to your right. you both move with more vigour, the blonde becoming more comfortable in matching your pace and thrusting upwards when you buck down. oxygen evacuates your brain, making room for the inexperienced creature below you every time the heavy, solid length of his cock drags slowly over your increasingly throbbing clit hidden behind panties drenched in both water and fresh waves of arousal. 

even with his sprouting confidence and belief that you crave him as much as he does you — the beast moves too slow for your liking, leaving it up to you to take matters into your own hands. quite literally scrambling into the depths of the water to shred off your panties keeping you away from smothering  bakugou’s monsterous cock with your silken slit. 

his length bobs upright in the water, slapping against his fluffy tummy while is bright red tip breaches the surface — shiny from evidence of his arousal. the pair of you share a hungry moan at the sight, a glossy white smearing over blonde fur, katsuki hard and heavy. he’s unlike any man you’ve ever seen, ribbed entirely along his shaft with balls that hang extremely low and full of seed. despite feeling his size against you before, your mouth falls open in slight shock at the sight, instantly watering — katsuki’s dick could be mistaken for a third leg, chubby and a mushroomed at the tip. you’ve never had a partner so big before.

a tapered whimper, so quiet that you almost miss it, bubbles on the seams of bakugou’s lips as he bites them with his pointed animalistic teeth. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i don’t know what i’ll do.” he warns huskily, throat bobbing beneath the sandy fur at his neck. “s’been a while… and i know it’s not like the humans you’re used to. it’s…big. so i understand if you don’t want to…”

“it’s perfect.” you purr lowly and cut him off, the sound rivalling that of the beast’s, leaning forward to spit on his sore red tip as it oozes precum and lewdly rubbing your palm over his cockhead and shaft to spread the lubricating mix all over him, letting it mingle in the water. “you’re perfect. i can’t wait to take you, make it fit. i want to be the one about to make you feel good after so long.” 

a strangled howl forms deep within his chest at your admission — his extremely large body palpitating wholly as you take the entire weight of his cock into your dwarfed hand, barely able to fit all of your fingers around him. you feel for the prominent vein in the underside of his shaft, pressing down on it while your remaining fingertips toy with the sensitive ridges and bumps that decorate him. 

when you look up at bakugou the beast with beautiful, big eyes he feels like he could die here. happily. in beast form and all. he could never be human again or break his curse and he’d be content to have you looking up at him like this, with his huge  cock in your tiny hand, be the last thing the blonde ever sees. “fuck,” he snarls tip bleeding hot arousal over your knuckles and into the tub, knees shifting apart to give you more room — sending water flying out of the bath. 

you inch forward again, breathing warmly against katsuki’s damp lips as he begins to weaken beneath you with every pump of his dick. “i can’t wait to see how you feel, i’m going to get myself ready for you. is that okay?” you check with him, even though his mane is tousled about with how fast he’s nodding. whispering faint pleads against your wet Cupid’s bow. 

“please… just hurry it up,” katsuki lets his temper flare briefly, almost as hot as the water that soaks his fur and your clothes. lukewarm at best. he rambles for the most part, brainlessly even. lackadaisically rutting  into the pathetic small circle your little fist barely makes around him — the force of his hips causing water to splash up against your dress. “‘m ready for it…” he adds begrudgingly. 

the sight of the beast’s submissiveness and desperation brings a smile to your cherry bitten lips, clit throbbing and cunt quivering around the water you sit in. “i’ve got you, don’t worry…” assuring him gently, your mouth hangs open and follows the sweet howl uttered from your partner’s lips — its volume just above the explicit, wettish sounds of your hand jerking off the entirety of his shaft. even though you don’t want to, you only slightly let up on the pace of your palm smoothly gliding in and out of the water ( around katsuki ) to pull him towards your bare pussy.

his hips canter and chase your heavenly grip, fat droplets of his precum flying about the place and into the tub from just how much the beast is leaking. bakugou feels his mind sink into a hazy fog when you lift your hips to hover over his girth, the fuzziness shrouding his brain showing on his muzzle and handsome face. bliss lines his vermillion framed eyes, those same eyes that flutter shut in anticipation. waiting for you to put your honeyed pussy on him and make him yours.

katsuki can’t contain the feverish pants that escape him when you guide his clawed paws to hold your hips and help lower you onto him. the closer your heated core gets to his seedy cock, the harder it becomes to breathe and the humid he exhales starts to mingle with your own. 

both of you hiss pitifully in unison at the first tap of the blonde’s monsterous cock against your sticky, needy mound. your aching clit instantly catches on the ridges of his dick deliciously, causing you to crumple against the beast’s marshy furry chest — gripping onto locks of gold around his neck to ground yourself, bring yourself back down from an immense and otherworldly jolt of pleasure that bounces from the tail end of your spine to the top of your skull. you feel as though your brain has been knocked about, bakugou languidly thrusting upwards to drag his length through sluice, puffy folds and grind against your clit — clearly seeking the heat of your pulsating sex. 

“s-so good, katsuki,” a sheen of sweat condescends against your skin, glazing you in a pearlescent shine while you throw your hips back and forth over the blonde’s fat dick. he’s in no better state than you, talons sinking into the peachy flesh to cope with the way you move feverishly above him. sweat beads at his hairline, murderous ruby eyes growing heavy and kisses and god, you think he looks so perfect like this. when his remorseless resolve comes crashing down and he takes everything that you have to offer. “think you’re so beautiful,” 

rose pink tinges hotly at his cheeks while he shakes his head — denying your praise. ropes of saliva forming connections between his sharp white teeth and his strawberry tongue while he tosses his head back at your praise, letting out a stream of enchanting moans. katsuki’s adam’s apple bobs between small whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ punctuated by the slap of water hitting the floor from your sinfully synced bodies. he doesn’t let up on buck of his hips to meet your sodden sex, your puffy folds spread perfectly either side of the meat or his shaft — allowing your arousal pearling pleasure bud to graze his cockhead rhythmically. causing both of you to quiver in ecstasy.

“‘m not,” the beast denies, drawing his hips far back until they meet the bottom of the tub before jutting forward — his entire length slipping through your soaked pussy lips until his breeders balls tap at your hole. “g-god… think you’re gonna make me cum…g-gonna make me…fuuuck!” he chants, eyes snapping open to capture your gaze.

the tail end of his words form a soft symphony of whines and animalistic chirps, like music to your ears. “i want you to cum, you’d be so pretty cumming against me, katsuki…” you continue to taunt him, following his movement by cheekily driving your fluttering entrance down against his bulbous cockhead — trembling at its thick diameter. you still have no idea how it’ll fit. “give it to me.”

you take his massive paw in your tiny hand, hooking his claw onto the bosom of your dress with trusting eyes. the sound of wet material ripping echoes about the bathroom, the blond having torn right through the damp front of what you wear. you slump forward next, pebbled nipples brushing pleasurably over katauki’s fluffy toned chest. his fur is slick and clings to the water droplets on your glistening skin — especially with your bodies submerged under the lukewarm water. 

“you… y’don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” bakugou slurs deeply, grinding the tip of his dick against the ring of muscle at your entrance as you glaze his painfully with sweet the honey nectar dripping from your cunt. he’s so close he can practically taste it, all he needs is one little push. so you take his hand, leading him into a mistified fog of love and lust — reaching up, you drag a tender finger over the dark black horns that spiral from between roots of sun kissed blonde hair and fur, revelling in the way katsuki’s breath hitches. “d-don’t… they’re fuckin’ sensitive…”

all you do is hum in response, practically pressing your chest to the beast’s face as you learn further up and teasingly drag the length of your tongue over one scaled black appendage, taking the second horn between your wet, pruney fingers to jerk it like you would his cock. “they feel good when i touch them?” there’s a certain husk to your voice that puts the man on edge beneath you, colourful language littering his tongue, spurts of precum clinging to the insides of your folds. “what if i…?”

your hot, warm mouth encapsulates the very tip of his horn and your cheeks hollow out so that you have the room to suck him down your throat — mindful of its jagged surface. you feel so full and in all the best ways, the thickness of his horn causing a swell in your throat. his bright red tip, feverishly leaking precum, just barely bullying its way past the tight ring of your entrance, tapping against your sticky pussy even under water. you’re drooling from every hole, every place that you could possibly be fucked in and it’s all for him — willingly sucking him down… its for him.

“fuckin’ hell… sweetness, please. when ya touch me like that ‘m gonna—“ that's what makes you swallow around the beast as his sensitive horn presses against your uvula, spit pouring out against it. 

even as his eyes disappear into his dark skull at the feeling , katsuki drools over you as though you’re a prime cut of meat — a claw drifting up from the fat at your waist to the now naked and pliant mounds of flesh at your chest. he squeezes your breasts tightly in his monstrous palm, each point of each claw digging into your skin until electric dopamine crackles quickly across your synapses — dizzying your brain and ability to function. his grip is so sinfully tight that it’s enough to draw blood, crimson rose petals inking their way between the valley of your breasts and blowing on the surface of the water filling in the tub.  

you don’t stop kissing and sucking on his horn — tasting the ash between each scale, like firewood. he doesn’t stop rutting against your sex, sloshing sounds fluttering through the air. it’s your moan around him that sets the beast off, choked and spluttered; the sweet symphony guiding bakugou through the rough terrains of his high like he’d done so for you outside. static erupts over his brain and numbs all four of his limbs while a white as bright as the evening’s snowfall flashes behind hazy red eyes. his blonde head of hair drops weightily to your damp shoulder; hips stumbling against your cunt, as thick ropes of his early release hit your clit underwater.

with a prideful your lips pull off of his horn, listening happily to his washy, uneven mewls. even though he hadn’t been ready to cum just yet, it was by no means a small orgasm. katsuki’s load is heavy, still coming in hot, viscous waves as you suddenly slip down on his throbbing shaft — using the mix of water and orgasm as lube to help you with his size. “t-takin’ me all at once… still cummin’,” bakugou gasps like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the black in his eye eclipses the red. “you gotta be careful… ‘m big, sweetness. don’t wanna hurt you.” 

katsuki bakugou, the beast, is perfect. you know that now, whether it’s because your brain is fucked up with sex crazed hormones or because you genuinely do care for him deep down. either way, you think that he’s perfect, and you want him every way. his cock stretching your tight heat has you delirious, you think the burn of his size might even kill you as it pulses in your lower belly.  

“w-what makes you think you might hurt me?” you drawl and your sopping walls accept every inch of him with ease, reminding him of how lucky he is to have you. to be able to fuck you. it’s almost as if you’re made specifically for the beast — wandering into his castle with intention. not just for your father. 

there’ll never be another beauty like you and he’ll never be able to let you go after this. 

you ooze viscous nectar against katsuki, blossoming for him like a flower made for the coldest of winters while he presses into you — deeper and deeper. until you’re pelvis to pelvis in the warm tub. “‘cause...you’re so small compared to me, sweetness,” he explains over the lump in his throat — a growl escaping from behind his larger, menacing set of teeth. “such a fuckin’ dainty…pretty… little thing. fuck… if we do this i ain’t sure i’ll be able to hold back.”

lowering your hips and clenching hard, you lock the blonde into your heat selfishly, even though your legs are about to give out and you feel faint from taking the entirety of him in one go. “but that shouldn’t stop you from having your way with me, beast.” you murmur. “i don’t want you to hold back. you’re perfect and i want you just the way you are,” taking his paw in your palm, you draw it back to the claw marks struck lovingly against your chest — letting him feel the strong beat of your heart between your breasts. “my heart is racing, bakugou,” you croon and nuzzle your nose against his cutely, earning a light purr from the man beneath you. “i think… i think you make me feel this way.” your heart has never fluttered for someone like this before, not for yo shindou or any other man back home. you feel so small and safe with katsuki, even if he seems scary on the outside — you know that he’s tender and always means well.

that’s all the permission katsuki needs, really. hearing you tell him that you want him, even if it’s in his most carnal and instinctive way, is the same as hearing the magic word to him. with revitalised motivation, the blonde beast plants his feet against the smooth base of the tub and thrusts all the way into you with one fluid motion — hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out in your weeping pussy. each movement is easily guided by his previous release, forming a foamy white ring at your entrance. he wraps a hand around the back of your head, claws massaging your scalp to soothe the cloying cries caused by the new angle as he keeps you pinned to his body.

bakugou relishes in the warmth of your syrupy walls clenching tightly around his bricked up length but manages to find strength in pulling from your selfish slicked up hole to set a slow, calculated pace to the way he bucks into you — dragging his monstrous girth along your ribbed walls and pleasure points. the utter power behind his hips quickly have water splattering over the edge of the bathtub and tear through babyish yelps escaping from between your cherry-bitten lips. the beast takes control of your body like a king or a prince with a strict rein over land. ruling over every thought once rattling around in your mind.

your shaking hands take hold of sun-kissed tooth’s of his fur, ones that muffle your little laments and whines as katsuki fucks you down on his shaft — taking you to the high heavens and back. cloud nine just within your reach. oxygen eludes you, leaving your lungs vacant and struggling to keep up with everything the beast gives you — carving a pathway for his big seedy cock against your insides with every feverish buck of his hips into yours. “feels…feels s’good!” you shriek desperately, trying your best match his rhythm. “so deep, makin’ me feel so full!”

“already? haven’t even given you a proper load yet,” bakugou chuckles between condescending moans, drunk on the way it feels when he stretches you out around him the deeper he goes, poor pussy changing to accommodate his breath-taking size and whatever love he has to give you. as a result, the beast fills you until you’re practically a glass overflowing with love and pleasure. “could plug you full with dick ‘n cum, ‘n it still wouldn’t be enough for you. would it?” 

using a free hand, the blonde drags his claws grip down to your fleshy ass and spreads your cheeks apart, growling as the webs of slick tying them together break over his fingers — dampening them just as much as the water from the bath. his grip allows him to bully himself further into your molten core, moulding you perfectly up and down on his cock. “love how you feel around me, sweetness,” the praise smooths over your brain, wiping it of any feedback you have for the blonde and all you can do is gargle passionately in ecstasy. “don’t think i deserve to… fuck a pretty girl this tight…”

you squeeze around katsuki where your words fail you, juices dripping down his length into the bath nastily until it bathes his breeders balls as they clap against the curve of your ass repeatedly — heavy and full of a second load of cum just for you. even though he pushes and smears the first against pleasure spots dotted along your velvety walls. shaking your head, face hidden in water-logged fur, “y-you’re the only one who deserves to fuck me, katsuki, have this tight pussy— oh!” the tail end of your words come out as choked, lost to the echoey bathroom and splashing water as bakugou sinks his fangs into your bare shoulder.

he bites you, not only to mark you and taste the sheen of saltine sweat on your skin, but to pacify himself — help him cope with each flutter of your wet pussy and angelic simper. a delectable pain blossoms underneath the surface of your skin, and you weave your nimble fingers into bakugou’s fur to keep him in place, letting him bite you hard enough to draw blood. wounding you just as much as he had been wounded. 

ruining the bath with more than just sweat, juices and cum.

bakugou fucks you like he loves you, like he’s been waiting thousands of years to pour locked-away affections from his soul into yours. limbs slip and slide against the walls of the tub, filling the homing air and layering over the vulnerability lying in it. you’re sure you’d see this hidden truth in his vermillion eyes if you had the strength to look up from his chest too.

“keep talkin’ to me like that, swear i’ll ruin you ‘n this pussy for everyone. myself… the next man that has you,” bakugou growls as feral as the animal he’s been turned into. even with his body pressed hotly against yours, joined at your sticky sexes while you’re chest to chest ( sensitive nipples brushing each other’s), he still can’t see how much of you he owns. neediness and yearning spark between your compressed bodies as they dance together underwater, skin slapping on skin and water spilling everywhere. “she’ll never be able t’forget the way i make her fuckin’ feel…”

“oh god, please. please—“ you feel like you’re in the verge of tears, overwhelmed by everything that is the beast. that makes up katsuki bakugou. his size and thickness drive you insane, how he feels thrusting into your gummy walls and meeting the hilt sends you up a wall. not to mention the scent of his body, his fur, permeating your skin possessively and sinking into your pores. “don’t want anyone else after you, wanna have you inside of me forever. only you inside. just so pretty when you’re fucking me, katsuki…” you admit through earnest and shaky hiccups. 

despite rambling, your words feeling tacky on your tongue like someone’s stuffed your mouth with cotton, katsuki seems to finally get the hint. he makes you feel this way, he makes you see stars, he’s the one that you want — fully and undeniably. without a care in the world for how he looks. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be letting him rapidly rock his hips into you with lewd squelching sounds emanating from your ravaged pussy. you wouldn’t bounce up and down on his aching dick to chase him with a spasming, slippery hole when he just about pulled out of you, losing control of the movements of his hips — spreading the arousal beading on his cockhead against your insides.

“f-fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me…”  

the edge of the beast’s words develop a sharp shakiness to them, a sheen of sweat painted over your bodies from both the humidity in the bathroom and the exertion of your activities. you were living for the burn his fat girth created as it pushed its way past your puckered hole every time he jutted upwards or you weakly fucked down — bakugou knew you wanted more and he’d give it to you too. 

“y-you’re prettier. especially when i’m the one fuckin’ you,” bakugou whimpers seraphically, using his strong hand on your wet ass to lift and drop you in his milky white dick — not caring about the water that got everywhere, only focusing on matching you to his length jackhammering in and out of your pathetically creamy pussy. you spasm, keeping him a prisoner in your cunt while he spews copious amounts of precum inside of you and into the tub — coaxing a fresh wave of blistering hot essence out of you. 

all of a sudden, the beast uses his brute strength to  shift your positions with his cock still nestled within you and your back splashes against the remaining water in the tub — dampening your back and the crown of your hair. katsuki doesn’t let you sink too far back into the water, instead, holding you up by the far at waist, large paw curling around it entirely. “see that? my cock bulging in your tummy. s’all me, sweetness. will only ever be me. you’re mine, all fuckin’ mine for all of time.” he whispers above you lecherously, hazy vermillion gaze floating like driftwood down to your soft stomach. your eyes follow his, breath caught in your throat at the sight,  the shape of him outlined there as he pounds into your g-spot lovingly, dotting your eyes with constellations. “hold onto me, sweetness. gonna make us cum.” 

quickly, you wrap your ankles around the smallest part of the beast’s waist — cunt unlocking and locking around the curve of his dick at random with the new position. choking the precum out of him, opaque fat drops pearling at the slit every time katsuki’s hips lunge forward powerfully. “i love you,” tears begin to brew in your glassy eyes and gather in your lashes like dew drops on a leaf, streaming down the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with emotion. you’re not sure if you cry because of dopamine, lust and happy hormones jolting from your brain to the tips of your toes or because of the way katsuki slots his body against yours — drowns you in everything that is him. 

either way it doesn’t matter, because you don’t know what you’d do if the beast stopped loving you like this. making love to you with every push of his cockhead against sluice walls, every swipe of his tongue over your swollen lips and every scratch of his claws against your supple body. 

“i love you,” you repeat, the taste of your orgasm rushing over the horizon as you claw desperately for something, anything to ground you. you wriggle and write underneath him, sending more water out of the tub, stomach twisted in delightful knots and only manage to steady yourself by grasping bakugou’s thick black horns above you. “i want to be yours forever…b-because you’re perfect ‘n feel so good. ‘n no one will care for me like you do…”

“‘hmyfuckingods…shit!” bakugou swoops down to lick curse words into your impassioned, temperate mouth, weakened by your warm touch around his sensitive horns and your own words mewled out like a promise to the cursed monster of a prince. watching the beast, your beast, break above you hardly soothes your wrecked insides — honeyed juices drooling down your thighs, dripping into the tub in a viscous lava flow each time he pumps into you. parting between kisses and through your wet lashes, you witness the way sweat drips from his hairline and fur, the way his dark brows are furrowed in concentration ( focused on bringing you to the top of your peak ) and how his arms flex in order to drag your pulsating pussy up to meet his thick cock — skin smacking and breath mingling in the musky air. 

his golden fur glistens under warm candle light and if you looked close enough, you could spot the twinge of pink at katsuki’s cheeks from his exertion. he’s beautiful on top of you, fucking you, that you’d be happy drown here in this bathtub if it meant he was the last thing you ever got to see. “tell me how much you want me,” bakugou snarls against your swollen lips, spouting the covetously loaded words against your strawberry tongue before he slopping kisses you again — teeth clashing with yours, incisors nipping your bottom lip until it’s bloody while he maps out the taste of sex in your mouth. 

as if to coach an answer out of you,  his knuckle slips between your connected bodies to toy with your throbbing clit — being mindful of his claws, not wanting to cause you any pain when you’re so close to reaching your high. it’s hard for you to speak when his cock slips into you like magic and attacks your throat with a bounty of love bites in purply-blues. his intensity washes over you in waves, scorching you and soothing you all at once. over all the harsh moments once shared between you.

instinctively you squeeze at his horns and search for words, but bakugou answers for you — hardly peeling away from your, damp hot skin while he pulses to life inside of you. “cause i want you. want you so fuckin’ bad that it burns me. hurts me.” snarls and pushes his creamy cock as deep and as far as it can go, practically splitting you open, spreading your thighs wide ( as wide as the tub will allow ) to make room for his wide frame and hips between them. you can just tell how much he wants you, how it tears him apart pieces you back together, by the way he grinds against you — fluffy pelvis brushing against your puffy clit. with the hope to push you over the edge. “gods… you make me wanna lose it…” 

the beast picks up a pace and a thick strand of your mixed arousals swings between your bodies where the blonde beast plugs your spasming hole, the milky liquid finding purchase on your inner thighs and the veins that spiral down his shaft. the both of you start to lose it together, water slipping and sliding everywhere as bakugou moves to sit on his haunches, all-encompassing grip on your waist lifting you from the shallow depth of the tub to keep you on his cock — pussy squelching over his swollen and red shaft. 

in response, your back bows away from the bottom of the tub until you’re chest to chest once more and your lips part with “i want you, i want you, i want you! n-no one else!” you chant loudly, the words nearly lost over the sounds of the beast passionately slamming into you over and o er again. “k-katsuki! think i’m gonna… so close—! cumming—!” 

using two knuckles, bakugou pinches your clit between them and sends you hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. that’s all it takes, him purring to you as white flashes behind your glassy eyes. you squirt hard against him, into the tub, clear liquid spurting from your ravaged sex and covering the beast’s fur in a messy layer of your release. there’s so much of it, that it nearly forces his cock from your quivering hole — but he can’t bare to be away from you, to waste his own orgasm. for the damn in the beast’s lower belly breaks as well; an earth shattering high comes crashing down on him and forces his bulking furry frame to collapse over yours — hips stuttering and water rushing out of the bath.

katsuki tucks his burning face into your neck one final time. his nostrils flare and chest heaves as he cums with an frightening roar, arms encircling your head to keep you still and pinned beneath him while katsuki unapologetically ruts into your ruined heat; dragging his bulbous cockhead deliciously against your silken walls as his seed pours into you in a large, unapologetic amount. potent and thick white floods your womb, cloying against the ribbed parts of your pussy.  so much so, that you feel your tummy bulge even as some of it runs down your slit and between your ass cheeks — into the tub below.

neither of you move, completely weak and shaky in one another’s embrace — limbs heavy from water that clings to bakugou’s fur and your skin. if you could speak and your ears were no longer ringing from your world ending high, you’d tell the beast that you love him. that you care about him. that you never want to leave him.

if his state was any better than yours, you’re sure he’d do the same.

but for now, you grasp onto his wet back and rake your hands through the masses of wet golden fur to tug bakugou, the cursed beast, closer to you. never letting him go. pulling him in to press a lasting kiss into his damp, muzzle. hoping your subtle affections will make do instead.

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

Infinite Rewind

Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: Instead of dying, you are sent 13 years in the past, but this isn't your face. "Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

Word Count: 18.1k

(Warnings: slight yandere, death, murder, inaccurate Tokyo geography, blood, violence, mild gore, obsession, unhealthy relationships, child abuse/neglect, time looping(?), fem!reader) Ageless blogs that try to follow me will be blocked

First, you saw a monster. 

It was big and horrible—nasty teeth. You heard screaming. People. Running as fast as they could away from the creatures. Pain. 

And then, you saw a bright, clear sky. 

The sun was blaring down at you. It was so hot. Wasn't it December? How was the sun out at night? 

"Hey, you good?" 

A girl is looking at you. Short brown hair. She's peering down at you, wearing a high-school uniform. How is she wearing all black when the weather is so hot? 

When you don't respond, her eyes squint. 

"Suguru, are you okay?" 

That's not your name; your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"I-I'm fine." That wasn't your voice. It was deeper. More masculine. What the fuck happened to your voice? 

The girl gives you another strange look but you're too busy freaking out over your new voice. Your hands are different too. A completely different skin tone, larger. 

And then you're fumbling with your pockets, clothes you know you didn't buy. The girl is calling for you again but you're too busy pulling out a fucking flip-phone and looking into the black screen, the only thing you have for a mirror. 

Purple eyes stare back. These aren't your eyes. This isn't your nose. This isn't your hair. This isn't your face. You blink. He does too. You open your mouth. So does he. You pinch your cheek. In the reflection, he winces. 

Oh, you just fucking bodysnatched someone. 

ⴵ

Ten minutes later, you conclude that your name is Geto Suguru, you are a 16-year-old boy, the year is 2006, and you attend a religious academy. 

"You're finally acting normally again." The girl-newly discovered as Ieiri- says. "No more weirdness." 

You don't blame her, considering you grabbed her by the shoulders, asking ridiculous questions like: what year is it, who am I, why am I here, who are you, am I dead, is this Hell, etc. For a teenage girl, she took your outburst well. 

"Sorry," you say and by now you've gotten used to your voice, "it must have been the stress from studying." 

She just hums, continuing to walk beside you. Though, Ieiri had a point. You were definitely calmer, and it was mostly because you figured it out. 

You were dreaming. 

You were lucid dreaming, to be more precise. Your brain was conjuring up a weird setting and you just happened to be placed in another person's body. You heard about this happening before. You were just so freaked out because this was the first time anything like this had happened to you. 

An impulsive part of you wants to tell Ieiri that this is just a dream, but you've heard weird things happen after a lucid dreamer tries to break the illusion. It's best if you just let it just play out and see where this goes. 

“Excited?” 

“Hm?” You ask. And Shoko rolls her eyes. 

“For the mission you have this evening. Special grade. Sounds scary.” She says, her sarcasm evident. 

Mission? Special grade? You don’t know what those words mean but it sounds like a school field trip. Shoko takes your hesitance as something else. 

“Ah,” she says, “so you forgot.” 

“I didn’t.” You reply on instinct. 

“I expected this from Satoru, not you. You should stop hanging out with him, he’s starting to rub off on you.”

You give a sheepish laugh, and it’s enough to quell her questions. 

She leads you into the school, all through the winding halls and through an office door. You couldn’t be more grateful, it’s not like you would have known where to go. It’s a teachers room. Two people are already inside. 

“Wait, for once, I’m early?” The boy with sunglasses asks, voice dripping with amusement. He’s leaning dangerously on a chair. You stare at him. You’ve never seen someone with white hair before. It can’t be real. 

“He forgot.” Shoko pipes up and the boy cackles. 

“That’s hilarious. I’m starting to rub off on you.” Ah, this must be Satoru. 

You give a nervous smile. “Haha, yeah.” 

The boy stops rocking in the chair. Three pairs of eyes look at you. Your uniform feels itchy.

“Gojo, stop making such a ruckus.” The man, presumably his teacher, gruffs. "You two got the briefing yesterday. Do your job and for the last time do not leave your assistant manager behind again." 

Gojo groans, and you delve into more confusion. Before you can say anything, the kid is hopping out of his seat before lazily striding out the door. Shoko and the teacher look at you expectantly. 

Oh, you were supposed to follow him. 

Not wanting to make a scene, you catch up to Gojo. He's tall, his footsteps are long and wide. But you're tall now too, so it's easy to keep up with him. This new body of yours has a lot of pros. 

"Yaga's so annoying," Gojo suddenly says, "constantly nagging us like that. It's not our fault the assistants can't keep up." 

What should you say? You clear your throat. 

"He just wants what's best for us." 

Wrong answer. 

"Where'd that come from?" He snorts. How charming. "I know you agree with me. You're just tryna' act like the nicer one, again. It's starting to get a little old." 

Is that how 16 year-olds talk? Rude, but also strangely off-putting, like he can see straight through you. Or more accurately, he can see straight through Suguru. How close are these two, anyway? 

Why did any of these questions even matter? This is a dream! You need to wake up already. 

On the campus grounds, a sleek black car waits outside for you two. Along with a miffed man in a black suit. This must be a very rich school for a field trip to have a chauffeur. Where were you two going again?

Gojo hops in the back, taking one of the window seats. You take the other. In your own body, you would've fit nicely. But Suguru's legs are long, and the spacious car feels cramped. You should've taken the passenger seat. How do tall people live like this? 

The ride is quiet. Out the corner of your eye, you catch Satoru type away on his flip phone. A moment later, yours beeps. You still have no idea how to use Suguru's phone or his password, so you ignore his message. Satoru groans. 

Quickly, you learn that Satoru has a very low attention span. When looking out the window gets boring, he bugs the chauffeur. When the chauffeur ignores him, he starts bugging you. 

"Hey heyyyy," Satoru says, "when this is all over, we should go to that new ice cream place. Like you said, we should." 

You look at him. "Uh, sure." You say. 

"And you should pay for it, 'cuz you said you owed me last time." 

Fine, whatever. "Sure thing." 

He grins. You can't see his glasses, and it makes his smile even more unnerving. This kid. 

This doesn't feel like a normal field trip at all. Why did you stop in front of some rackety house that looked as though it were about to collapse? You turn back to the only adult in the vicinity, but he's out too. He takes out a lighter and a cigarette. In front of impressionable children, too. Wonderful. 

"I'll wait out here." He says, though his tone is uncaring. "Since we're out in the country, there's no need for a veil. Do your best." 

Veil? What? Gojo's already going off again and you've already decided to be his chaperone, so you follow. You reluctantly trail behind him. Feet crunch the leaves. The house grows bleaker and bleaker. 

"Okay, I have a plan!" Gojo exclaims when he gets through the squeaky door. He's so loud, can't he be quieter? "I check upstairs and you check the ground floor and the basement. Got it?" 

Check the house? Were he and Suguru electricians in training or something? That still wouldn't explain why a grown man decided to drop off two teenagers in front of a creepy mansion. And why in God's name did Gojo want to split up?

"I-I don't think that's a good idea," you say, "shouldn't we try to stick together?" Or, better yet, leave. 

He clicks his tongue. "Ugh, you're so lame. Not like Suguru at all." 

Wait, what did he say? You're about to call out to him when he climbs up the stairs, disappearing from view. Unbelievable. 

This kid was starting to get on your nerves. Enough, you were leaving. You could have a nice dream where you met and fell in love with Zendaya, not babysitting some teenager, whilst possessing another person's body. You were going to wait outside with the man and hope your dream finally came to an end. 

Except, you couldn't go outside. The door was gone. 

It-it was right behind you, right? The entrance was right behind you. You couldn't have gotten turned around so quickly? What the hell happened? Or maybe you had gotten turned around? Considering how distracting that Gojo kid was, you might not have realized it. 

You look around the house. Looks like it'd been abandoned for a while. There's dirt on the shelves. Chairs were toppled over and left to rot. The wooden floorboards dangerously creaked beneath you. Just what had happened here? 

There's no patio door. No door leading to the outside. At the same time, you hadn't explored everything yet. Each door led to a room. The only door that didn't, led to a basement. And no, you weren't going down there. 

When you got back to where you started, you noticed something had changed. 

There was a person. Seated right at the base of the stairs? 

Gojo? Was he done with urban exploring? Maybe he knew the way out. He stands up, reaching to his full height, then higher, then higher. 

Gojo was tall, but this thing was taller. Gojo was human. This thing wasn't. 

What the fuck you can only mouth because your voice is stuck in your throat when it takes a shaky step towards you. It's a black husk of a figure, too skinny but too tall and twitching fingers. You don't know how you could've mistaken this for the kid. 

Another step. You're running, back into the house, leaping over the fallen shelves and creaky floorboards. It gives chase, and you can hear it groan behind you. It's deep and rumbly and terrifying. It just motivates you to go faster. 

It's slower than you. That's good, but it seems to realize this. You can barely celebrate your advantage before something heavy is smashed into your back, sending you toppling to the floor. You and wooden chair crash on the ground. 

It hurts. 

Everything hurts. 

Dreams aren't supposed to hurt. Because this wasn't a dream. 

This was real. You were stuck in the year 2006, stuck in another person's body, about to get mauled by a monster. 

You were going to die. 

You aren't even fighting anymore. How pathetic is that? The shock numbs your body as the thing grows closer and closer, all you can do is reach your hands up, protecting your face. 

And then the creature explodes. 

An implosion. It's skin and bones twist in a way no one should. There's a shriek, something wrong and high and inhuman before it's gone. Like it never existed in the first place. 

After all that, he's still smiling. Like the cat that just caught the mouse. 

"I guess we're not pretending anymore, are we?" Gojo asks, stretching his arms. "That's good. That game was starting to get a little boring, anyways. Now, then." 

He folds his glasses, tucking it on his uniform. Blue, his eyes are. As blue as a clear sky. 

"Let's cut the shit." The white-haired kid grins. "Who are you, and what're you doing in Suguru's body?"

ⴵ

Contrary to your belief, Gojo Satoru is a good listener. 

There's never an interruption. Not even once. Every once in a while, he nods, a hand on his chin. It's probably because he can't interrupt. You just keep going on and on. Word vomit. 

He only speaks when you pause to catch your breath. "So you are from the year 2017, and you went back in time to body-snatch someone. I had a feeling your technique had something to do with possession." 

You look at him warily. "Wait, you knew this entire time?" 

You two hadn't moved from your earlier spot. You were still sprawled on the floor, still feeling the adrenaline surge through you. Gojo had transitioned to squatting on the floor. He scratches his neck, still so casual. 

"I have good eyes. Don't worry about it." He shrugs. "Anyway, you seem pretty harmless, and as annoying as it is not having Suguru around, I doubt killing you would do any good." Why is he being so nonchalant about murder? Is this kid really sixteen?

"I think we gotta' just wait around until your technique reactivates." Gojo whistles. "2017. That's like a decade away. I wonder what happened for your technique to show up." 

You blink, trying to remember the date. 

"It was Christmas Eve..." You glance at him. "And then I was here." 

He thinks for a moment. "Yeah, I got nothing." Of course. 

He sighs, before sprawling on the dirty floor, belly up. You grimace at his antics but choose to keep your mouth shut. 

He doesn't seem very worried. At the most, he looks mildly inconvenienced. Why isn't he worried about his friend? 

When you ask him, he just snorts. 

"Sorry, but you're not that scary. Besides, I don't have to worry about Suguru. He's strong." 

Well, that's nice to know, but one other thing still bothers you. 

"You speak so casually to me," you mutter, "You know I'm older than you, right? I'm 22." 

He laughs. "22? Damn. You're old, man." 

"That isn't old!" You argue. "You have no concept of age since you're just a teenager." And why did he assume you were a man? Oh right, you were trapped in a teenage boy’s body. Of course.

"I mean, technically, I'm older than you, right?" Gojo ponders with a grin. "If you're 22 in 2017, that makes you what—11 in 2006?" 

You say nothing because you have a feeling that if you continue to argue with him, he'll just drag you down to his insanity. 

"Technique, you've said that a couple of times." You look at him. "That's what you call your 'powers', right? Does Geto have one too?" 

"Yeah," Gojo says, "but you can't use it. You have zero cursed energy. Honestly, it's at the same level as a plant. A bit lower than regular humans. It's a little impressive, actually." For one second, could he stop being so condescending? 

"What's his technique?" You ignore his comments. "Could it be related to how I got here?" 

He gives you a look over. "I doubt that, but Suguru's technique is curse manipulation. Uh, you remember that thing you saw earlier." You nod. "Yeah, he can control and absorb them." 

He sounds pretty awesome. You look at your hands. Not your hands. Geto's hands. They're paler than yours, and a lot longer. This isn't your body. Your soul can feel it. You can feel the guilt too. 

'I'd give it back if I could,' you think, 'I just don't know how.' 

Gojo's getting up. He stretches. He was lying on the ground but you can't see a speck of dirt on his uniform. 

"Okay, then. No use mopping around." He grins down at you. "Maybe Yaga can do something about you. Let's get you back to jujutsu tech." 

You blink up at him. His hand is outstretched, reaching out to you. He's still grinning that insufferable grin but his eyes have slightly melted. 

"Okay." You say, barely touching his fingertips. "Let's-" 

And then Gojo's gone. And then, you're standing. And then it's cold. 

You're wearing a coat; weren't you wearing a uniform before? There's no clear sky. It's nearly dusk. 

You were standing on the sidewalk, where people bustled all around you. You fumble through your jackets, putting out a phone. An actual iphone. You flick on the screen. 

December 24th, 2017, 7:06.

Holy shit, you were back. 

Was it because you touched Gojo? That makes no sense, but how could you explain anything else that happened so far? God. You rake a hand through your hair. Your hand. Your hair. You can't believe how much you missed yourself. It felt so good to be back. 

Your mind is spinning, you had no idea what the fuck just happened.

For now, you just wanted to turn your mind off and grab a drink. 

You know there was a bar not too far from your location. Along the way, you pass by the bustling town. There's a couple walking side by side, giggling over something you couldn't hear. Right, it's the 24th. You remember your empty bed with no one to share it with, and you cement your desire to drown yourself in alcohol today. 

Your self-pitying session is almost how you nearly miss him. His shoulder brushes past you. You're about to apologize when you hear his voice. It's familiar. 

It used to be your voice. 

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool. His broad back is the only thing you see, you're almost afraid to reach out to him. 

"Suguru...?" 

He freezes like you've shot him. When he turns around, it's like looking into a fractured past. He looks older, no longer a youthful teenager. You should have paid more attention to his eyes, how scrutinizing they were, how condescending his fake smile was. All that you could think of was that it was actually him. 

"Do I know you?" He tilts his head. "Apologies, but my girls and I are quite busy." 

You don't notice the two young ladies beside him until Geto points them out. Teenagers, maybe just around the age when you first met him. He was a father now. 

You're so swept up by the emotions that you barely notice they've continued walking. You stumble behind, ducking behind the alleyway they went into. 

"Wait! Geto!" You call. "Please! We need to talk!" You still needed your answers. You didn't know care how desperate you came off as. 

In hindsight, you should have noticed that they looked more annoyed than worried about a stranger chasing them across the street. 

The one with the ponytail scoffs. "This one talks an awful lot. How annoying." 

Geto sighs. He leaves his daughters, finally standing in front of you. This is what you wanted, right? A chance to talk to him. 

Still, you can't help but feel wrongness within you. His smile is off. 

"Most monkeys are just that, unfortunately." You don't move. You can't. Not when he places a hand on your skull. "I suppose it'd be humane to put this one out of its misery." 

Geto Suguru crushes your skull. And then you die. 

ⴵ

Again. You died again. 

This is the second time Geto has killed you. Fuck, you should've realized. 

"Back again, Greeny?" Gojo asks. 

He and Suguru were sitting outside in the grass. Satoru's holding up a few playing cards. You look at Suguru's hands and find yourself doing the same. 

Not again. 

"What year is it?" You ask warily. "And what did you just call me?" 

Gojo grins with teeth. You remember he compared you to a plant before, didn't he? He's so clever with nicknames; someone should give him an award. 

"Welcome back to 2006!" Gojo beams. "It's only been a couple of days since you left. And why are you so grumpy? I'm the one who just lost a player." 

You weren't grumpy, you were pissed. You figured out what's been going on with you, and it's all because of the asshole you're possessing right now.

The look on his face when he killed you. Like you were nothing more than an animal. A monkey. Now, you feel a lot less guilty about possessing his body. 

At least you figured out two things. You know how your technique works. Whenever someone kills you, you are sent back in time to take over their body. But you can go back whenever you touch Gojo, or perhaps just another sorcerer. 

Secondly, you have access to Geto's memories. 

It didn't happen the first time you died. It must have been because the kill wasn't direct (from Getos curse, rather than himself), but milliseconds after Geto split your skull in two, your brain was overwhelmed by his past, his present, as well as his future. 

Geto was set to die on December 24th, 2017. At the hands of his best friend, Gojo Satoru. 

Fuck him. Let the bastard die. You didn't give a shit. 

You reach over to touch Gojo's arm, ready to leave. He pulls back with a snicker. Ugh, the brat must've figured out your technique, too. 

"Stop messing around." You tell him. "I need to go back to my timeline." 

"Sure, sure," he says as though speaking to a time traveler is just another Tuesday. "But first, finish the game with me." 

"No." You tell him before leaning out even further. He isn't moving away anymore, but you still can't reach him. Fuck, he must've activated his technique. 

Despite your annoyance, you decide to keep the future away from Gojo's ears. He doesn't need to know that he'll be the one to kill Suguru. He shouldn't. Not at his age. He's just a kid. 

"Just one game! I promise!" He pleads. "Then I'll let you go. Suguru never lets me beat him, I want an easy opponent to boost my ego." 

You roll your eyes, but you settle down, picking up the cards. You already know the rules; you have Geto's memories, after all. 

It's silent, save for Gojo's humming. When you place down your King of hearts, you ask:

"Hey, is my cursed energy different at all?" You ask.

"Not really." He squints. "Wait, it has grown a little. Aw, Greeny sprouted!" 

So, every time you die, your cursed energy increases. That, or your cursed energy, increases every time you time travel. It doesn't matter either way. Does this mean you can use Geto's technique now? It couldn't hurt to try, right? 

There's a demon-no, they're called curses you know that now- floating beside you, just a little ways away. Small. Barely fourth grade. You stick your hand out, calling out Geto's power. There's a pull, a rush of energy. 

A blue ball drops into your hand. 

"Holy shit." Gojo leans forward. "So you can use his techniques." Surprisingly, there's no wariness in his voice. Just awe. 

"Yeah." You breathe before glancing up at him. "Shouldn't you be focused on your cards?" 

He shrugs, tossing the cards away. "What cards?" 

You sigh before staring at the ball. Well, you captured the curse. All that's left to do is swallow it, right? You can do that. You open your mouth. Gojo is still staring. You scowl. 

"Look away." 

He rolls his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen you do this before. Well, not you, the guy that you bodysnatched." 

Ass, you keep that in your head as you hold your breath. You swallow the ball down. 

Instantly, you choke. 

It's horrible. Like a rotten carcass on the highway, oozing blood and oil and pus. You start dry-heaving, suffocating, spit dribbles down your chin. Nothing comes out. You've already absorbed it. The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. Like swallowing a rag that was used to wipe up vomit and shit. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. 

"Is it really that bad?" Gojo observes you. "That guy swallows them down, no problem." 

Because Suguru was used to this taste. He was used to the responsibility. The hoarding mass of distraught absorbing a curse comes with. It was a disgusting art. Something he'd perfected to mask for years. Until he couldn't take it anymore. 

Fuck, you might have lost your mind, too, if you kept having to eat this. To protect people who were happy you failed. 

You snapped out of it. Suguru's memories were affecting your own. That's probably a sign that you need to get out of here. No way would you be sympathizing with someone so monstrous. 

"Hopefully, I never do that again." You slowly recover, wiping your spit away with your hand. You lean back on your hands, exhausted. 

"Something I've always wondered." You call out to Gojo. "What did Suguru ever think about someone possessing his body." 

Gojo laughed. "Funny thing. He never knew." 

"What?" You look at him. "No gaps in his memory? Nothing?" 

"Nope," Gojo said, "he remembered what happened in the house, but he thinks he did everything. And then he said something weird." 

You perk up at that. "What did he say?" 

Gojo tilts his head. Then, he shrugs. 

"I forgot." Typical. 

You pinch your nose bridge. "So, did you tell anyone else about...this?" You gesture to yourself. 

"Wait, you're supposed to be a secret?" You look at him in alarm. "In my defense, I didn't know, but I haven't gotten the chance to tell anyone. After the mission, Suguru and I went to the arcade, and then I kinda' forgot about it." 

Well, at least Gojo's arrogance works in your favor sometimes. You can't let anyone know, especially anyone connected to the higher-ups. From Geto's memories, you know they don't like anything new. It's best to stay under their radar. 

"Good, well, from now on, we're keeping it a secret. Got it?" 

"What are you two keeping a secret?" A new voice pops up. You jump. 

You know him—at least from Geto's memories. Haibara beams at you. He looks so alive in the sunlight, smiling and with bright eyes.

He'll be dead within a year or so. 

Gojo takes advantage of your shock. "The bodysnatcher wants me to promise that I won't tell anyone that a curse-user is possessing Suguru's body." 

"What the hell? You just promised that you wouldn't tell anyone!" 

"Uh, technically, I didn't promise anything yet." Gojo retaliates. "But okay, fiiiiine. I won't tell anyone....except for Haibara." You groan. 

"What's going on?" Haibara's smile fades. "Wait, Gojo, is this not Geto? Is this person actually a curse-user!?" 

"I'm not a curse-user." You correct. "I'm not a sorcerer either, for the record." 

"You just used a curse technique to travel back in time to take over someone's body." Gojo enunciates. "Sounds like a sorcerer to me." 

"Wait, you're a time-traveler, Mr. Not-Geto?" Haibara asks and you are genuinely impressed he's able to keep up. 

"The name’s Greeny, Haibara." Gojo supplements. Haibara nods, still a bit unsure. 

"So...do we fight Greeny?" 

"It's not my name." You get ignored. 

"Nah, it's all good. Greeny's harmless. Just a weakling, don’t worry about it." Rude, but you don’t think you’d want Gojo to take you as much of a threat, not after knowing what he can do.

"Oh, okay!" Haibara instantly relaxes. The kid's really trusting, huh? 

"Okay, fine, but no one else can know, got it, Gojo?" This promise doesn't matter. It's not like you're planning on returning to the past anytime soon. As soon as you return to the present, you are leaving Tokyo and escaping the night parade of 100 demons. Fuck that. You don't want to die again. 

He waves you off. "Yeah, yeah."

He's so insufferable. You don't know who's worse: the genocidal maniac or this brat. 

"Give me your hand. I want to go home." 

Haibara looks confused. "Wait, why does Greeny need your hand?" 

"It's how the curse technique works," Gojo explains. "Greeny gets sent back in time, and then my true-love's touch sends him careening forward into the future." You frown at his comment, but he turns to you before you can say anything. 

"Which reminds me, Greeny: ever figure out how your technique works?" 

No way are you telling a kid that their best friend killed you....twice. Instead, you just shrug. 

"Haven't figured it out yet." 

Gojo stares at you. "Huh." He responds. "Well, if you ever figure it out, lemme' know." 

Sure you will. You hold up your hand. Gojo, finally holds his own up. Out of the corner of your eye, Haibara waves. And then you're back in your own body, on December 24th, 2017, 7:06 pm.

You waste no time. You push at the crowd, squeezing through the hoards of people. You need to get out. You need to leave before the death parade starts, before you're trapped in that terrifying cycle of death again. 

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

No no no. Shut up. This wasn't you. This was Geto's memories. 

Exorcised. Ingested.  

You need to leave. 

Exorcised. Ingested. 

You need to survive. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. 

You stop, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. People glare, cursing as they move around you. They don't know this place will be a bloodbath in a matter of minutes. They'd all die. But you could stop it. 

If only if you hadn't accessed Geto's memories. If only if you hadn't eaten that damn curse. If only if you hadn't sympathized with a murderer. Maybe you'd have the courage to escape your future. 

But you'd felt that taste. Horrible. If you eat enough, you could go insane. If you were lonely enough, that would do it too. 

The taste of a cursed spirit no one knows. No one except for you. 

At 8:06 the screams start. The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more. 

ⴵ

For once, when you open your eyes, Gojo isn’t there with you. 

You’re still on the campus of Jujutsu tech. Suguru was just about to grab his soda from the vending machine. You finish his job. The can feels cold. It feels refreshing on your tongue. It’s a momentary distraction to the fact that you have no clue what you’re doing. 

You understand your cursed technique, but you still struggle with the application. Fuck, what did you do? You were utterly fucked. You’re playing a dangerous game. If you died- if Geto died- here, what would even happen? 

 The worst part is that you can’t even think of the hypothetical because there’s no other choice. You needed to do this. To not only save the people in Tokyo from the Night Parade, but to also save Geto Suguru. The man who has killed you three times now. 

Geto’s dissent starts to worsen at Riko Amanai’s death. If you could prevent that from happening, you could probably change history. But Geto’s true fracture begins with the curses themselves. They were rotting him from the inside.

You grimace, but you have to do it. You have to eat every single curse that Geto couldn’t swallow down himself. 

One was coming up. In less than an hour, Yaga will call you and Gojo for a mission. It’ll be a special-grade grave-type curse. Dispatching it will be simple, but Geto would be the one to exorcise it, ingesting the screams of all that the curse devoured. You needed to prepare yourself for that. 

Maybe you should save some of this soda to wash the taste off later. 

“Geto!” Someone cheers, you jump, but Haibara’s already poking his head around the wall. He grins. 

“Hey! Oh, you’re not Geto, aren’t you?” He tilts his head. “Greeny?” 

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper, “wait, you can recognize me?” 

He nods, after checking to make sure no one’s around, he says, “yeah, your eyes are different? It’s hard to explain.” He tells you. 

Huh. Interesting. 

“You’ve been gone a while.” Haibara beams. “It’s been a few weeks. I’m glad you’re back, Gojo was starting to get cranky.” 

It’s probably because he had no one to mess with. Poor him. He has all your sympathies. Ass. 

“I’m glad to return as his punching back.” You mutter. 

Haibara shyly shuffles his feet. 

“So, are you really from the future?” He asks. “Was Gojo telling the truth?” 

You nod. “Haibara, you haven’t told anyone, right?” 

“Of course not!” He instantly says. “Not a soul. Not even Nanami, and I tell him everything! Your secret’s safe with me.” 

“And Gojo, too! I know he doesn’t look very trustworthy, but me and him have kept it under wraps.” 

Reluctantly, you can’t help but agree with the kid. Gojo is annoying, but so far, he hasn’t done anything super harmful. 

“So anyway, Greeny.” He clears his throat. “Considering you’re from the future and all. Would you mind telling me what my future will be like?” 

You blink at him. He takes it as a sign to continue. “Nothing much! I just wanna know what I’ll be doing in 2017. Will I finally be a grade 1 sorcerer?” 

You think of Geto’s final memories of Haibara. A child burying another child. 

“Sorry,” you lie through your teeth, “but I didn’t know you in my future. Again, I’m not really a sorcerer.” 

Haibara nods, disappointed but still very excitable. He asks you about other things about the future, and you try to answer to the best of your ability, but you can’t shake off his dead glass eyes, staring at you from the morgue. 

“Another thing, we should have a code word.” Haibara exclaims. 

You blink. “A code word?” 

“If we ever meet in the future,” he explains, “y’know, in 'Groundhog’s day', he has to keep explaining what’s happening repeatedly? In order to prevent that, we should have a secret word between eachother so I instantly know who you are.” 

Not the same exact situation, but it sounds like exactly something a child would come up with. You indulge him anyway. 

“Okay, what did you have in mind?” 

“Well, it can’t be anything too crazy, or we might attract unwanted attention.” Haibara puts a hand on his chin in serious thought. You smile. 

“Got it! If you ever see me, just yell ‘brocolli head’ really really loudly. Then I’ll know.” Haibara chirps. 

“Wait, why broccoli head?”

“Because broccoli heads are green!” Haibara chirps happily.

You’re starting to learn it’s best not to question his logic.

You nod, very amused. “Sure thing, Haibara.”  

Someone calls out his name. He jumps before he waves to you. You watch as he joins with Nanami. They talk about something you can’t hear. Haibara laughs and you decide it would be a shame if his laugh was lost to death. 

Gojo finds you eventually. You can’t hide from him forever. You were walking into the school when he caught up with you. He’d ran there. His breath was slightly ragged. 

“Greeny, couldn’t get enough last time, huh?” You shoot him a look. 

“What are you talking about? Doesn’t matter, we need to go, the missions coming up.” 

Gojo’s smile dips ever so slightly. “How’d you know about that?” 

It’s probably not a good idea to tell the guy's best friend that you’re possessing that you’ve unlocked his memories. 

“Haibara told me.” 

“Ah,” He replies, “let’s go then.” 

The car ride is different this time around. Less tension. You aren’t as confused. Gojo is seated quietly beside you, watching the scenery go by. The assistant is too preoccupied with belting the radio to notice Gojo's words. 

“Figured it out yet?” He asks. “Your technique.” 

He's persistent about that answer, isn't he? You're sure the only reason Gojo cooperates with you is because he thinks you're inhabiting Suguru's on accident. How would he react if he knew you were doing it intentionally? It's best not to get on the strongests’ bad side. 

“Oh, not really, but I think it’s random. I can’t seem to find a set pattern. Maybe Suguru calls out to me, somehow?” 

“Maybe.” Gojo replies. His time is flat. Anxiety flips through your stomach. 

“You’re different this time around,” Gojo says. 

“Am I?” You ask. “I guess I’m just more determined today.” 

He gives you a look over. "Oh yeah? What for?" 

"The curse. I'll exorcise it, today." 

You don't know how you wanted Gojo to react to that, but you're still disappointed when he turns back to the window. 

"Do whatever, Greeny." 

In the end, you do swallow the curse. You manage to hold your gags in this time. 

It's worse than before. It makes sense. This curse was first-grade. Stronger. In terms of taste, it was like curdled blood and mold. You were so grateful for that soda. 

Gojo only watches with a tilted head. 

"You're getting better at that."

You give a weak grin. 

"Practice makes perfect," you reply, "do you think I'll get strong enough to absorb a special grade soon?" 

He doesn't like your question. You can see it in his stiff expression. 

"Maybe. Why do you want to swallow up curses, anyway? Last time you were here, you were practically begging to go back." 

His response wasn't exactly hostile but far from his usual playful attitude. You knew you'd have to confront this eventually. Despite how nonchalant he acted, it's clear Satrou doesn't enjoy watching someone prance around in his friend's body like this. If he starts to dislike you, it could rupture your entire plan. You need his cooperation, more than anything, to save Suguru. 

A little bit of the truth. Just a bit. It can't hurt, can it?

"Curses taste horrible," you say, looking at the ground. You can still taste the remnants of it, "it's the worst thing in the world. I can't even explain how wrong it feels to eat one. I thought...while I'm in his body...I could maybe help Suguru a little. I could ingest the curses in his stead, so that way, he still gets to absorb it." But it'll lessen the trauma it has on his mental state. 

You can't see how Gojo feels about that. Those glasses of his cover everything. But you know he's staring at you. The six eyes are taking you apart, observing you whole. 

"Did you know Suguru in the future?" He asks. 

"I didn't." The man that killed you. The man that will keep killing you. And you'd forgive him each time. 

Another beat of silence.

Finally, he just sighs. "You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?" 

You give a sheepish laugh.

"That isn't a compliment, by the way. You're just really reckless. And maybe stupid, Greeny." His tone isn't mean. 

"My name still isn't Greeny." You tell him. 

"Oh yeah, what's your name, then?" He's reverted back to that teasing lilt, and it almost makes you relax if you don't note the curiosity underneath. 

So far, you've been lax giving away information regarding the future, but you don't think you should continue that. What if you're too careless and the future changes in a way you didn't intend? A name, personal information, that could be way too dangerous. 

"Actually, just call me Greeny. I like that name a lot better." 

"You complained about it all the time, though?" Gojo argues. 

"It's starting to grow on me." You grin. "Grow? Get it, because you compared me to a plant and-"

"Stop stop, you really are an old man." Gojo groans. You just grin wider. Then, you grimace.

“I can still taste it.” You complain. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

“I caught our assistant manager smoking a while back,” Satoru suggests. “Maybe you could go and beg him for one.”

You toss him a look. “Suguru doesn’t smoke, and I’m not giving a teenager a nicotine addiction.” You have found lighters inside Suguru’s pockets, but you have a feeling it isn’t for his own cravings.

"Hey, could you do me a favor?" 

He gives a wordless hum.

"Maybe after this, could you take Suguru out to a cafe'? I can taste the aftertaste of the curse." You shudder. "Just get him something to wash it down." 

Also, Suguru couldn't go back to his dorm after this. Suguru dissented because of his fractured relationship with everyone, not just with Satoru. You'd try to bridge the gap between him and his peers as much as you can. You go through Suguru's flip phone, asking Shoko if she wants to join the two. 

When you're done with that, you snap the phone closed. 

"Okay, I'm done here. You two have fun, okay?" You raise your hand. 

Gojo just huffs, amused. "Sure sure. By the way, someone wanted to thank you." 

You blink at that. "What?" 

He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it."

He gives you a high-five, and then you're back in 2017 in your own body. 

Temporarily. So far you figured out that you get sent back an hour before the night parade happens. 8:06. Considering you have a couple more minutes to kill before you’re killed, you reach into your pocket for that cigarette you’ve been craving. You pick the first out of the box, cherry burns just out of corner of your eye.

You notice things now. The children giggled to their parents. Old couples gingerly held hands with sweet smiles. You'd save them, but first, you need to save Suguru. 

And do really do that, you'd have to save Riko. 

Easier said than done. You could go back in time, but you can't really control when to go back in time. It's been random, but your trips are typically two days away from each other. You can work with that. 

But in order to get to Riko's death, you'd have to die...a lot. Absorbing curses made Suguru lose his mind, but how well would you fare with dying over and over again? 

"Hungry?" 

Someone looms over you. A woman. She's pretty, with short hair and bangs. In her hand, she holds a bag of chips. 

"The vending machine gave me an extra." She gives a laugh. She kind of sounds like you. "Would you like one?" 

"Oh." You take it. "Thanks." 

"Don't mention it." She trots off into the crowd. You watch her.

A stranger's act of kindness. She didn't even know what would happen to her soon. You grip the bag, it crinkles in your grasp. 

It didn't matter how well you'd fare with dying over and over again. You'd get over it. So many innocent people depended on you. You can't just abandon them like this. 

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right? It's aggravating how accurate he is, honestly. 

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It takes a few cycles to finally reach the day Amanai Riko is assassinated. Whenever you deem yourself too early, you often accompany Gojo on a mission and exorcise a special-grade curse. Your overall plan is working, bit by bit. Each time you return, Suguru's memories swarm you. Each curse he remembers as less painful. 

It's why you get worried when you get there a little too late. 

"Something wrong?" Riko asks. 

You've stopped in the middle of the hallway, and of course, they're looking at you strangely. You know this place. Tengen's barrier is just an elevator ride away. Suguru, Riko, and Miss Kuroi were all almost there.

Fushiguro Toji has already arrived. 

In the first timeline, Geto leads the girls all the way down to Tengen's barrier. He puts his trust in Gojo. Of course, he would. They're the strongest. And in the end, Gojo does kill Toji. 

But the kill comes too late. Riko still dies, and the fracturing happens. 

You thought you'd have more time. If you had arrived a bit earlier, you could have fought with Gojo, and the chances of defeating Toji would have significantly increased. 

What do you do?

"What's the matter?" Miss Kuroi asks. She's supposed to die today, too. 

"Sorry, ladies." You smile. "But I need to go back for him." 

You don't answer their calls, running back up the hallway. The sun's bright, shimmering beautifully in the sky.

It contradicts the blood dripping all over the stone floor. 

Gojo's lifeless body is draped across the rubble. It's a horrifying sight. Eyes that were once like the sky are just this empty blue. A dead sea. He isn't breathing. You know, if you touched his wrist, you wouldn't feel a heartbeat. 

"Hate to break it to ya', but the Gojo kid's dead." Toji's right behind you. You can feel him grinning. 

You know Gojo isn't dead. At least, he won't be dead for a while, but seeing the boy who used to tease you, annoy the shit out of you, laugh at you, be so....it made you freeze. Falter. 

You were wasting time. 

"Sorceror killer." You say after a minute. You almost can't bring yourself to turn, to look at him. The man who kills Gojo. The man who could've killed Suguru, but chose not to. "You certainly live up to your name." 

Toji's grin widens. The only man in the world with zero cursed energy. It'd be awe-inspiring if it weren't so terrifying. 

It's funny. You weren't afraid of dying, not anymore. You were afraid of failing. Failing when you were so close, when victory was just a blink away. 

"The flyheads." You mention to the swarms of curses all around you. "That's really smart." It gives you an idea or two. 

You have Suguru's memories, but they aren't always concrete. You just have snippets. A general idea of what happened within a certain event. It makes sense. Humans can't remember everything. 

But regarding the memories of Suguru and Fushiguro, everything is crystal clear. It's almost like you were there when it happened. 

It also means that you know Suguru, at this current level, won't be able to defeat Fushiguro. 

But Suguru doesn't need to beat the sorcerer killer; he just needs to hold him off. 

Currently, Suguru's body contains 368 curses: 3 special grades, 24 grade ones, 33 grade twos, 103 grade threes, and 205 fourth grades. 

You release all 368 of them. 

In another timeline, these curses would look to you as something to devour. Today, these curses have a new target. 

It won't stop Fushiguro. You're not dumb enough to think that. But it should give you time. Hopefully, it'll be enough time. 

Your knees hurt when you collapse next to the corpse. Gojo's so beautiful, even when he's dead. 

"Gojo." You shake him. Nothing happens. "You need to wake up. Gojo." 

Nothing happens. You don't know what caused Gojo to become the strongest, Suguru wasn't there. For once, you are blind to the past. 

"Riko needs you. Wake up. You-you need to go and save her and Miss Kuroi." 

His body's so cold, and you know he's dead because when you touch his skin, you don't wake up in the present. You push against his body, and he falls limply right back to place. You're sure this sight will haunt you for the rest of your life. 

"Satoru." You beg. "It's Greeny. Please, please, please wake up."

 Nothing happens. 

Everything happens. 

The brightest blue you've ever seen. It's heavenly. A glow that warms and chills your skin. It takes a while for you to see again. When you do, Satoru is standing. 

Somehow, his eyes are even brighter. You don't think you're looking at a teenage boy anymore. 

You're sitting in front of God. 

"Greeny." he states, voice flat. "You're late." 

You manage to smile.

"Sorry." 

You’ve seen Satoru fight before. He’s always calm, body relaxed as he practically floats in the air. Those fights differed from Suguru’s memories—post Satoru’s awakening. There’s always this twinge of desperation. An aftertaste of bloodlust.

But seeing it for yourself is something else entirely. Even with Suguru’s heightened senses, you still can’t follow him. He’s barely a mirage. One milisecond you can see a blue flash, the next you see nothing.

It's barely a fight. Not this time around. Fushiguro is completely unmatched. There's a flash of purple. And then, it's over. 

Fushiguro is in shambles. You didn't realize he was human until he started to bleed and shatter. Parentage over labor. It's sobering, in a way. 

Satoru's mouth moves. You're too far away to hear anything. They stand there for a few more seconds until Fushiguro slumps. Then, he falls.

You wonder when you got so desensitized to death. 

Gojo stands there. You should let him compress, but the clock is ticking. You need to do one more thing before you can let Suguru go. 

"You need to go." You say when you're close to him. He doesn't acknowledge you. "Riko's about to enter Tengen's barrier." 

He looks at you right then. His eyes. They're so bright, but they're strangely lifeless. Like he can't process you, your words. 

"I can see you now," he says, "it was so foggy before, but now, you're crystal clear." 

Six eyes look at you. You don't think you're hiding behind Suguru's face anymore. 

You clear your throat. 

"Gojo." You remind him. "Riko. You need to stop her." 

He blinks back into focus, rising from his high. 

"Oh," he says after a moment, "right." 

You stop him before he can walk any further. You hold out your hand. 

"You and Suguru." 

For the first time in a while, Gojo hesitates to send you back. You wait a couple seconds longer. 

"Yeah," he finally says.

His skin still feels cold. 

ⴵ

This death is a lot more painful than the others. 

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die. 

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

Time skips a lot faster now. 

You stand in 2006, four months after the death of Fushiguro Toji. It takes a second for Geto's memories to kick in. What you see makes you nearly cry in relief. 

Gojo and Geto made it in time. You can still remember the tears spilling down Riko's cheeks, the smile on her face when Geto asked her if she wanted to go back. They were safe. They were home, with each other. 

You did it. You actually managed to pull it off. 

But you can't celebrate, not yet. From what you can gather from Suguru's memories, Geto defects after four years. You've just held off the eventual. 

It's nearly the middle of December. The air feels a bit chillier. You stay on that bench where Suguru once occupied. He was finishing his lunch. Usually, he'd eat with Satoru, but Satoru wasn't on campus these days. 

Right, you weren't finished with your work, yet. There was still one other issue. Suguru went on missions alone these days. Swallowing curses, letting them fester and rot in his body. It's isolating and grueling work. You might have been able to help him with the absorption, but your aide won't be enough to prevent his eventual downfall. 

You'll have to deal with his natural isolation. To do that, Suguru will have to make friends with people who aren't Satoru. 

Suguru does have friends, but he's the closest to Satoru. Considering Satoru is getting busier each passing day, Suguru needs to broaden his horizons a bit. 

It's a good thing this school is filled with such colorful characters. 

Haibara and Nanami were sitting in the back of the school. From Geto's memories, their dynamic was interesting. Haibara was definitely more outgoing than the two, but Nanami seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. They looked out for each other, in that way. 

Ah, Shoko was there, too. You haven't seen her since your first day. Her hair's grown longer. It lightly brushes her shoulders now. The cigarette in her hand burns a cherry red. 

Your reaction is rooted in Suguru's instinct than anything on your part. You reach out, taking the cigarette and stomping on the embers. 

"You shouldn't smoke in front of kids." You tell her, hoping she didn't read too much into your action.

Shoko scoffs, but to your satisfaction, she doesn't take out another one. 

"We're just one year below you." Nanami retaliates, but he looks more at ease now that the cigarette's out. 

"Did you finish lunch already, Geto?" Haibara asks kindly, then he takes a closer look. "Greeny?" 

You suck air through your teeth, giving Haibara a scathing look. Instead of looking exasperated, Nanami looks confused. 

"What's Greeny?" Nanami asks, and Haibara weakly laughs. 

"It's-uh-my new nickname for the tree that's growing over there!" He wildly points to something just behind you. "'Cuz it's so...green!"

"Of course." You note the hint of affection laced within his tone. 

"When'd you get back?" Haibara recovers with eagerness. 

"Recently." You grin. "Nice to see you again." 

"You saw him this morning," Nanami interjects, and you shrug. When he frowns, you know you pulled off a perfect Suguru impression. 

Suguru melds into the conversation perfectly. Haibara says something funny, Shoko and Suguru agree, Nanami disagrees. It's a lovely little cycle that ends when Nanami grumbles and picks himself up to go. Shoko starts to follow suit when you stop her. 

"Your hair's nice." You tell her. 

She hums, grabbing a strand to study it. You can see hints of dark circles beginning to form under her eyes. She looked livelier when you first met her. Curses have been popping up left and right since Fushiguro's death. Everyone is overworked, but Shoko looks like she's getting the brunt of it. She's one of the only people who can use RCT on others, and there aren't many healers on her level. All of the strongests share one thing in common it seems. 

"Pretty soon, it'll be longer than yours," Shoko replies. You smile in response. 

"Where are you going?" You ask. 

"Dorm," she replies, "I'm behind on paperwork." 

You had a feeling she always was. You gave a look of sympathy, but misery loves company. 

"I have some work too," You 'remember' the piles of papers lodged on Suguru's desk, "Maybe we can do it together later. The cafe right next to campus? It'll be my treat." 

She looks at Suguru. Her eyes are a pretty color. 

"Sure." She shrugs. "see you then." 

You feel your heart thump twice in your chest and decide that your work here is done. 

Haibara stares at Shoko's disappearing back. The forehead flick comes from both you and Suguru. 

"That hurt." Haibara whines. 

Good, you inwardly think. 

"Sorry." You tell him. He rubs his head, and you wonder if this is how kicking a puppy feels like. 

Luckily for you, Haibara recovers quickly. 

"You've been gone for a while." Haibara tilts his head. "What happened?" 

You can't exactly control your technique, it's more like it has a mind of its own, placing you exactly where you need to be placed. Instead of answering, you sigh, leaning against the wall. 

"Timeline gimmicks." You tell him tiredly. "It's hard to explain." He frowns, but he takes it as an answer.

"Do you know when Gojo's coming back?" You ask. "I think it's time for me to go back again." 

In previous time travels, you and Haibara tried to see if any physical contact would be enough to send you back. No matter how many times you two high-fived, shook hands, or even held hands. Nothing worked. Only Gojo Satoru could activate your technique. It must have something to do with the amount of cursed energy another person has. 

“He should be getting back later this evening.” Haibara muses. “But I’ll be happy to keep you company!”

It's nice to hear him chatter. If you'd let him, he'd go one and one. But you like hearing him talk about his sister. Apparently, she’s also a sorcerer, and his affection for her makes you smile.

"You remind me a lot of her, actually." He tells you. "Even though, y'know, you're a man." It's enough to get a laugh out of you. 

“Do you have anyone in your family who can see curses?” Haibaracasks.

“No,” you answer honestly, “at least, not that I can tell. My dad never spoke of curses or strange powers when I was growing up.”

You think he would have said something; after all, you two were too close to have secrets from each other. Your father was a single man, who took to raising you himself after your mother passed away. He often said you had her laugh.

“Maybe you’re one of a kind,” Haibara suggests.

You agree with him.

Gojo finds you before you can find him. He comes up to you with a grin and a wave.

“Hey, long time.”

His sunglasses are tilted down. You can see his eyes. They’ve lost the mania he had in his fight with Fushiguro. You’re relieved at that. You still can’t shake off that strange thing he said to you.

Wordlessly, you raise your hand. Satoru frowned.

“You wanna leave so soon? You just got here.”

“I’ve been here for hours,” you tell him, “also, you aren’t very concerned that someone is using your best friend’s body as a puppet.”

“He’s been through worse,” Satoru tells you off with a wave. Some friend.

“Let’s go to the arcade,” he suggests.

“Do that with Suguru.” You tell him. “I’m not hanging out with a high schooler.”

“Right right, my bad. I keep forgetting you’re an old man, Greeny.”

“22 is not old,” you say with exasperation, “didn’t your birthday just pass? You’re just five years away. I’ll see your attitude change, then.”

He grows quiet. You feel like you messed up somewhere.

“How did you know about my birthday?”

Fuck, you keep forgetting about keeping Suguru’s memories a secret. It takes everything within you to just relax.

“Haibara told me,” you say, “blabbermouth. You know him.”

“Oh.” Gojo replies. “Huh.”

You shuffle your feet. Distantly, you wonder what shoe size Suguru wears.

“How did your mission go?”

“Horrible,” he’s instantly back to his usual self, whiny and complaint, “and the curse was so ugly too. It was oozing goo everywhere.”

You frown. “Sounds gross. But you won, right?”

He doesn’t even answer. You secretly admire his sheer confidence. You certainly weren’t that when you were at his age.

“How’s Amanai and Miss Kuroi?” You ask.

“Safe.” He tells you. “The higher-ups weren’t really happy with us after that; pretty sure all these sudden missions are punishments.” He frowns. “But they’re fine. Miss Kuroi officially adopted her, so she’s a Kuroi now, too.”

You smiled. You already knew all that, but it’s nice to hear it.

“You saved them,” he says.

You laugh, “I didn’t do a thing.” You tell him. “You and Suguru did all the heavy lifting. I just caused some property damage.”

“You did.” He replies. “I don’t know how, but things always manage to work out whenever you’re around.”

You don’t like how he phrases that, but you don’t react.

“You think so? Maybe I’m lucky.” It’s supposed to be a joke of some kind. Neither of you laugh.

“You really don’t know us in the future?” He asks.

Maybe you should’ve asked Shoko if you could have a cigarette.

“I really didn't,” you say, “Honest, I—I have no idea what’s happening. I’m just as lost as you. Hopefully, I can figure out how to control my technique, and you won’t have to see me again.”

You never stopped feeling guilty for doing this to Suguru. Controlling him. Forcing him to laugh with his friends, make decisions based on your feelings rather than his. But you’re so close. You promise yourself that once you fix everything, you’ll never cause someone this much pain again. No matter how many times they kill you.

Satoru’s fists tighten. He looks even more upset at your response.

“That’s not what I—” He cuts himself off. You wait. Satoru says nothing more.

“You’re annoying.” He tells you in the end. It’s clean and cut, but it sounds like him. More confident, less wavery. “And stupid too.”

You can’t help but smile.

“Thank you. Am I done entertaining you now? Can I go?” He grumbles, holding up his hand.

“Yeah, sure, Greeny.”

ⴵ

You forgive Suguru.

ⴵ

Something’s wrong.

You can feel it. Something’s wrong.

You look through Geto’s memories. There’s nothing. Everything’s going as it should be. Everything looks perfect. Then, why do you feel so wrong?

Currently, Suguru was finishing excorcising a curse. You absorb it, swallowing down the remnant like it’s a pile of rusted nails but even the disgusting taste isn’t enough to wash away the feeling of dread.

The walls of the hospital was empty. The auxillary managers had already cleared everyone out by the time Suguru had walked in. Maybe it was the silence that added to your stress?

You walk out. Nothing changes. One of the managers comes up to you with a clipboard.

“The curse was exorcised.” Suguru tells them. “It wasn’t first grade, it was special grade. It was still disposed of.”

He curses, scribbling something down on his clipboard.

“The wrong information again.” He hisses to himself. “If we keep doing this, someone will die. We need more people, we’re way too stretched out.”

Those words are familiar. Hold on.

“Wait, what day is it?” You ask the frazzled-looking manager.

Offhandedly, he responds. He says the date so casually, and yet his mere words feel like a bear trap, tightening on your leg.

No. You should have had more time. Why weren’t you given more time?

Nanami and Haibara have probably already been dispatched. You go through Suguru’s phone, finding Haibara’s contact. It doesn’t go through. Nanami doesn’t pick up either.

You won’t make it in time. Even using Suguru’s curses, you won’t be able to reach them until it’s too late. Suguru’s memory of that day is muddled and dark, but Haibara’s dead corpse laying on the examination table. The pieces of him that Nanami could bring back.

You wouldn’t be fast enough.

He picks up on the second ring.

“...What’s up?”

“It’s Haibara.” You spit the words out as fast as you can. “Satoru, you need to go and get him right now, he isn’t going to make it—”

“—Greeny?” The exhaustion in Gojo’s voice is gone. You can hear something rustle behind him.

“Satoru, listen to me.” You beg. “Haibara and Nanami were just dispatched on a mission, but Yu isn’t going to survive it. It wasn’t a second-grade curse; it was a first grade. Please, you have to go and save him before it kills him.”

It’s silent. It feels like hours have passed when you know it’s just three seconds.

“We’ll talk later, Greeny.” The line clicks.

You’ve lost the trust of the strongest.

ⴵ

The future has changed when you get to campus. Haibara’s status is still alive. Barely. But he’s still there. Shoko’s currently taking care of him.

Nanami remains quiet the entire time since he returned with Haibara’s battered body. The only thing you can think of to offer comfort is to pat his shoulder. He barely even registers it. It’s more for you than for him. You’re self-soothing, taking care of something else, so you don’t have to recognize your own panic.

If Haibara dies, right here, on this day, everything can change. Everything can go back to the way it was in your original timeline. Haibara, with his sunshine, smiles, and bright eyes. His death is so important, and you can’t even think of him right now.

Gojo Satoru knows you’ve been deceiving him.

This is bad. So very bad. If he starts to suspect that you know more than you let on, he might deem you enough of a threat to kill, regardless of whether or not you’re in Suguru’s body. It’s not like that hasn’t stopped him before.

Gojo Satoru is selfless. He’s selfless enough to kill his best friend, if he thinks it will save everyone.

But if Gojo kills Geto here and now, would that really be bad?

You’d lose your path to the past, but the threat to your life would be over. Even if you did die in Suguru’s body, at least the people of Tokyo will be spared the Death Parade. You’ll still get what you want. And it will be much easier than your current plan.

Nanami shuffles behind you and you instantly snap out of it. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been you. That same lack of apathy when Fushiguro died in front of you.

It seems like dying over and over again caused you to lose bits of your humanity.

Shoko comes out. Nanami stands up, a tall ball of nervous energy. Shoko removes her mask. Her dark circles have grown even more prominent. She’s only 17.

“He’s still alive.” Nanami sags. “But he isn’t responsive. I’ve done all that I can.”

She looks at Nanami, and then she can’t anymore.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Nanami rasps, the most emotion you’ve ever seen from him, “don’t apologize. It was my fault. I should’ve taken better care of him.”

You swallow. It wasn’t his fault, you wish you could tell him that it was yours.

You wonder what Haibara’s younger sister looked like. A spitting image of him, perhaps. Shorter. Darker hair, bigger eyes. Their smiles would look identical. What would she look like when she’s told her brother died doing the profession he forbade her from doing?

You can’t do that to her. You can’t be the reason she loses her brother the second time.

You’re not sure if a God is even out there. How could there be? What kind of entity would do something like this to you? Still, you sit on that bench, right outside the room where Haibara’s body lay, and you pray for a God.

Gojo’s footsteps stop right in front of you.

It’s hard to get the words out. For a minute, he just stands there.

“Did you exorcise it?” You finally ask.

“Yeah.”

You lift your head up to look at him. Even in his school uniform, he’s regal to look at. Like a warrior of the sun, blessed by the moon, sent to vanquish beasts and monsters.

Now, his blood-soaked sword is pointed at you.

Make it quick. You can only think. Just make it quick.

“Not here.” You say.

Nanami was still shaking. Shoko was right beside him. So you stand, you drag yourself away from Haibara’s fading presence, and Gojo follows behind.

It shouldn’t be this pretty outside. The sun is bright, and the sky is clear. There should be rain. Enough rain to drown the Earth.

“I figured out your technique a while ago, y’know.” You don’t look at him. You can’t. “Dying. Death activates your technique. Each time you die, you’re sent back 12 years in the past.”

You grip the fabric of your uniform until your knuckles turn white. Satoru’s cruel enough to continue.

“But I never got why your soul kept possessing Suguru’s body. It always felt kinda’ random. Unless he was the one who was killing you. Over and over again.”

“Gojo. Stop.” You beg.

“That’s how your CT works. Every time you’re murdered, you go back in time so you can kill them when they’re at their most emotionally vulnerable moment. It’s a pretty powerful technique, all things considered. I might not even stand a chance against it. Assisted suicide, never expected that from you of all people.

But you never do. Each time Suguru kills you, you just come back and try to save him and everyone else your hands can reach. I can’t get why you did that.”

He steps in front of you so you can see him. The God that he is.

“Let’s cut the shit, Greeny. Tell me what future is so bad you’re willing to die over and over again to prevent it.”

The worst outcome you could have ever thought of was standing right in front of you.

Satoru was demanding to know his future.

And...you couldn’t.

You’re taking in a shaky breath. It’s not enough oxygen. The sky was close to crumbling, and you still couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to know.” You try. “There’s nothing, I’m fixing it—”

“—by Suguru killing you, or is this considering killing yourself, now?”

“You don’t understand.” Your voice is cracking, so high-pitched that even Suguru’s vocal cords can’t keep up. “You don’t get it. You can’t.”

“Then help me understand.” His voice is as ragged as yours, he steps closer, you step back. “Tell me why my friend would do something like this to someone.”

It clicks right then. Satoru’s anger isn’t directed at you.

No, it’s directed at Suguru.

It’s even worse than you thought.

“He—he was better than me. He was supposed to be the best out of all of us. I wanna deny it all that I can but—but I can see the proof right here in front of me. And—And I don’t—” His voice breaks too much to continue. 

You’re breaking, too. How many times have you been doing this, over and over again? All alone, with no one to support you. To comfort you.

The words are right there, threatening to bubble out. It’d be so easy to tell Satoru everything.

And maybe you would’ve, but then you looked at him.

Despite how disingenuous Satoru acted, you knew he was kind. The kindest person you’ve ever met. He’d sit there and listen, and he’d break every bone in his body to help. That’s just how he was.

Satoru was selfless, he was selfless enough to kill his best friend here and now if it meant he’d save the millions in Tokyo.

You can’t put another burden on the strongest.

You can’t do that to a kid.

“It—it isn’t him.” You manage to spit out. “He isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not his fault.

It’s the curses. They were too much for him; they overtook his body. Suguru couldn’t control them anymore.”

He says nothing. It’s like you’ve put a spell on Gojo somehow, freezing him in place. Satoru can’t do anything but stare at the talking puppet that’s his best friend.

“He lost so many people.” You continue. “Riko, Miss Kuroi, Haibara. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. His body succumbed to the curses, and they took over Shinjuku. That’s how I keep...”

It’s okay to lie like this, you justify to yourself. Because the Suguru, you know—the one with fake smiles, beady eyes, and a broken expression—isn’t the one that Satoru knows. They’re two completely different people. Years—timelines—apart from each other. They aren’t the same.

Even then, you forgave both Sugurus a lifetime ago.

You’d get on your knees if you know that would make a difference. You’d plead and beg and cry if it would get Satoru to drop it. In the end, you can only stare at him.

“All I’m asking is that you trust me.” You whisper. “Believe that I’m making this right. Please, Satoru?”

His eyes. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. He’s gone quiet and dull. The same look he had when he fully awakened his technique. The day he became God.

But he’s not a God. God’s don’t cry.

He leans ever so closely until his head rests on your shoulder. His body shakes.

“You’ll save him, right?” He asks. Gone, is his aura of confidence and resilience. He’s nothing more than a shell. If you feel something stain Suguru’s uniform, you say nothing about it.

You smile anyway.

“I will.” You tell the truth. “I will save him.”

You think of something morbidly funny.

“I’ll die trying.”

His shoulders shake with quiet, genuine laughter, the kind that’s wet and sticks to the top of your mouth.

“That’s fucked up, Greeny.” He whispers.

You hum, reaching up to pat him on the back. It takes another minute before he gathers himself up. His eyes are shiny. Satoru blinks it away.

“Haibara will be okay.” He says with such conviction. “I’ll take care of him. I’ll take care of Suguru, too.”

He doesn’t get it, not yet. He doesn’t understand that Shoko and Satoru and Haibara and Nanami need him. He’ll get it soon, though. You managed to put Suguru on the right path.

For now, it’s all you can do. 

“I know you will.” 

He scoffs, right then. 

“You’re really annoying, you know that? Next time, don’t piss me off like that. Just tell it to me straight.” 

Rely on me. Lean on me.

“I’m sorry,” you say and you truly are, “I won’t leave you in the dark from now on. I guess I just forgot that I had a friend in 2006.” 

His eyes get a little brighter. “It’s actually 2007—” 

“Shut up.” He laughs and it sounds like him again. 

You reach out your hand and his grin fades, the tiniest bit. He mirrors you, regardless. 

This time, you hesitate.

“You should learn how to be selfish every once in a while.” You tell him. “I won’t fault you if you’re selfish. I don’t think anyone will.

He doesn’t answer that, but his touch is finally warm.

ⴵ

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru. 

ⴵ

It’s today. 

You can feel it. You don’t even have to look at the date to know.

The catalyst for December 24th, 2017.

Suguru’s already dressed. You’re currently standing in front of a shotty mirror, watching your reflection.

He looks tired. His smile’s a bit muted. You notice a scar you hadn’t seen before. An unregistered special grade curse, Suguru’s memory gives.

He’s different from when you saw him a year ago, but there’s still a spark in his eye. You cling to that hope, as hard as you can.

You step out of the room. It isn’t Suguru’s. He’d rented accommodations with an older woman and her son for the mission. Their place smelled like home. It made your stomach turn.

She smiles when she sees you coming down stairs. She looks kind; she has the eyes of a mother. You’ll never understand how a person who raised children could do something like this to another.

“Mr. Geto.” She chirps. “I’m so glad you’re awake! Would you like anything to eat?”

“No, I’m fine.” Better get this done sooner than later. “I should be heading back now, anyways.”

Suguru had already absorbed the curse tormenting the village last night. You can feel the sticky aftertaste in your mouth. He should have left the village yesterday, but the people were insistent he stayed one last day as thanks, feeding him all they could.

Now, it’s obvious that it was a way to butter him up for today.

Her smile grows a bit nervous. She shuffles her feet a bit.

“If it isn't too much.” She starts. “The head of our village asked if you could look at something.” Her eyes darken into disgust.

You fight to keep your smile.

“Of course. Please, lead the way.”

It’s worse than you ever could have imagined.

You’ve seen this play out so many times in Suguru’s memories. He reminisces about this moment a lot. Because of that, you knew this scene too, like the back of your hand.

And yet, seeing two children huddled together on the floor. Nothing could prepare you for that.

The village head is saying something. The woman who Suguru roomed with is yelling at the scared kids, but you can’t hear any of that.

Their clothes were dirty and ripped. Their cheeks were hollow, and they looked like they hadn’t eaten for days. Himiko’s eye looks swollen.

The twins.

The first time you saw them, they stepped aside and let Geto kill you. There’s something oddly poetic about you being on the other side.

They tremble as they continue to look at you, flinch whenever that woman raises her voice. They must think Suguru’s here to kill them.

They’re too young to think like that. They’re too young to see the horrors of this world so soon.

It’s a mistake to look towards the end of their cell. Dirty water and dog food.

How could a human do this to them? How could a mother do this to them?

You feel red. It coarses through your blood, your veins, your soul. It feels like there’s lava right underneath your skin. Shuddering, tittering anger.

There’s more than enough fire to burn down an entire village.

‘Suguru,’ you think to your companion, your tormentor, ‘I think I’m starting to get it now.’

You reach for the bars of the cell. The twins shrink away.

“Ah! Mr. Geto, you musn’t get too close to them—”

“I’ll take them.”

“What?” The head of the village asks.

“The children.” You straighten yourself up. “I’ll take them off your hands.”

It’s pointless to do anything to these people. They’re delusional enough to think that they’re in the right. By torturing these children, they’re protecting their own. It’s fear. That’s all it ever was. Even without a curse, it’ll fester on and on until this village is nothing but abandoned homes. There’s no point to punish these people any further.

If you look at the adults a bit too long, you’re afraid of what you’d do, even without Suguru’s interference. Instead, you focus on Himiko and Nanako, looking into their wary gazes. Their hands are so tiny. You could protect them with your own.

When you got out of this backward village, you’d find them something to eat.

ⴵ

You go to Shoko first.

She looks surprised to see the twins. You can’t imagine why. Still, her voice is calm when she speaks to them, setting both of them up in the clinic room. Since you got them into the car, Nanako and Himiko seemed to calm down. Himiko even told you the name of her doll.

A little while later, Yaga comes for a visit. He’s the principal now. Usually, his voice is filled with gruff, but he’s oddly gentle when he speaks to them. Nanako cracks a shy smile.

You can’t escape the ‘we’ll talk later’ look he gives you. Inwardly, you sympathize with Suguru. But a harsh lecture is better than being branded a murderer.

He hasn’t come by, yet. With the twins aided for, you decide to go find him yourself.

Walking through campus feels a little nostalgic. The grounds of the infamous jujutsu technical college are a bright green. It’s summer again. You’ve met so many colorful characters since your time here. You’ve only seen snippets, mere seconds of their lives, and yet it feels like an entire lifetime.

He’s sitting on a bench when you finally see him, nursing a drink. He doesn’t acknowledge you. You have to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, plopping down beside him.

“Hey.” You say first.

“Heard you adopted two kids,” Satoru says, “Never thought Suguru would be a teen mom, but here we are.”

You laugh, light and breathless. The sky is so pretty today.

“I don’t think he’d have it any other way, personally.” You respond.

He reminisces on your words.

“This happened before too?” He asked.

It did. It was a lot less of a happy ending, however.

“Yeah,” you say regardless, “he took good care of them last time. He’ll do the same in this timeline too. I’m sure of it.”

And this time, he’d have help. Shoko, Satoru, his teachers. They’d all be there for him. Suguru’s memories haven’t changed yet, but you know the future you step into will be a different one.

“In any case, I’m glad I got to see jujutsu tech one last time. It’s a beautiful campus.”

“You act like you’re leaving,” Satoru says, uncaring. “You’ll just come back again next month. Or next year.”

You play with your fingers.

“I...won’t be doing that from now on.”

He pauses. Then, he looks at you.

“What?”

You can’t gauge his reaction, but he doesn’t look happy. You find this a bit hard to swallow.

“I fixed the future.” You smile at him. “I finally did it. Suguru won’t break. Himiko and Nanako won’t lose their father. You won’t lose a friend, anymore. There’s no reason for me to keep coming back. You’re all free.”

You phrased the last part as a joke, but Satoru isn’t laughing.

“Wait, you’re leaving? You’re...leaving leaving.”

You nod. “I can’t believe it either.” You still can’t believe you accomplished everything you set out to do. A task that seemed so impossible, now you’re standing on the other side of it.

It wasn’t truly over. Not really, but you were able to get Suguru through the worst of it. Now, you were sure Satoru and Shoko would take up your mantel, pushing Suguru through the finish line. Just like he’ll do to them.

Satoru’s quiet.

“You seem happy.” He notes.

“Well, I did just save everyone, I think I deserve to feel a little good about myself.”

For a moment, you want to ask if it’ll be okay to visit everyone in the future. To see how Shoko and Suguru and Satoru are doing as adults. You stop yourself. Of course, they wouldn’t want to see you. You needed to stop being so greedy.

This, was more than enough.

“Will you at least tell me your name?” Satoru asks.

“You know I can’t do that.” You tell him with a smile.

“Right right.” He laughs, it sounds hollow. “Time travel, bullshit. Makes sense.”

“I’ll miss you.” You tell him.

He straightens himself up.

“I’ll miss you too, old man.” He responds. “You were a lotta’ fun to mess with.”

For once, you aren’t offended by the old man’, comment. If anything, it feels somber.

“Can I ask for some advice?” He suddenly asks. “Y’know what they say, ask the old and wise or whatever.” Okay, now he was starting to push it.

“What is it?”

It’s his turn to shuffle with his fingers.

“What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it?”

You glance at him. He looks earnest. Did something like that even exist for Satoru?

“Something I can’t catch up to?” You ponder out loud. “I guess I’d have to make a big enough ruckus to where it has no choice but to look back.”

He frowns. “That makes no sense. You’re growing senile.”

You laugh. You’ll miss this brat.

You wish you could stay more. You wish you could ask about Haibara, and Shoko, and Nanami, but the clock is ticking.

Suguru’s getting impatient.

“Bye, Satoru.” You reach out your hand.

He scrutinizes it, before clasping it within his own.

“Yeah, Greeny.”

Within a blink, you’re back again in the middle of Shinjuku. December 24th, 7:06 pm.

It’s the same as always. People bustle around you. Children’s laughter. Everything always repeats itself, but you don’t think you can ever get sick of it. You’ll savor this peace for as long as you can.

You reach into your pocket, flicking out a lighter and the first cigarette of the box. You don’t know why you always chose this one. Despite outmaneuvering time itself, perhaps it’s within human nature to follow what’s written stone.

You’ve relived this hour so many times that you can list everything that happens. Down to the exact minute. 7:08- a little girl wearing a red dress walks by. 7:09- a lady with short hair catches your eyes and smiles. 7:14-an old man and woman bicker with each other as they pass you by. 7:21- A little dog sniffs the bench you sit on. 7:34- Two schoolchildren run past you, babbling. 7:45- five construction workers grumble out their grievances. 7:58- a businessman talks loudly on the phone.

You wait. You sit on a bench and wait until 8:06.

Five seconds after 8:06. Twenty seconds after 8:06.

The clock clicks to 8:07.

You were expecting to feel something else. Celebration. Elation. You half-expected to cause a scene and jump for joy right there in the streets of Shinjuku.

None of that comes. There’s just a feeling of relief. A weight presses you down, and you slump in your seat.

It was over.

It was finally over.

How long do you stay like that? Hours? Days? When you feel like you can finally breathe again, it’s only 8:12. Time travel warped your sense of time.

You stand up, stretch, feel your bones crack and pop. In the second timeline, you wanted to get a drink to drown your misery of nearly getting killed by a curse and being alone on December 24th. It felt like a lifetime ago when being single was the worst of your problems.

Honestly, you’d stay celibate for the rest of your life if it meant you wouldn’t have to go through that ever again.

Tomorrow, you’ll decompress and devolve into hysteria over what happened.

Next week, you’ll check yourself into therapy.

Today, you decide to go home and sleep for a couple hundred years.

You must look like a zombie with the way you wobble down the street. Physically, your body is perfectly fine. You’ve suffered no bruises or cuts. Even the numerous times you’ve been killed leaves nothing on your skin.

Mentally, you’re in shambles. The indomitable human spirit within you is snuffed out.

The stairs to your flat is your last enemy that you must vanquish before you can reunite with your adoring bed. You cling onto the railing with dazed eyes. You don’t see the curse until you’re right before it.

Distantly, you wonder how often you’ve passed a curse and didn’t even realize it. It’s almost instinct to reach out with your hand, intent on absorbing it.

Nothing happens. You remember you aren’t Suguru anymore.

It’s a grotesque-looking thing. No eyes, too many hands, a gaping mouth. It turns and looks at you.

Strange. Its’ smile mirrors the one in the abandoned house.

Adrenaline. You feel it coarse through your veins, meld into your bones, explode in your skin. You’re stumbling back, nearly tripping down the steps in your haste to get away.

It screeches. Loud and clear and angry and you can almost feel its teeth chomp on your leg, ripping your muscles and skin to mere tatters.

You’ve died before. You’ve been skinned alive before. You’ve been eaten before. Yet, it all amounts to nothing compared to the fear you feel at the thought of the curse catching you.

It can’t have been nothing more than a third grade. If you were taller, larger, special-grade, you could have killed it immediately. But you weren’t, not anymore, you were at the same level as a plant. Useless. Helpless.

A dead man stumbling, tripping, running.

The streets were quiet. You supposed that meant there’d be fewer casualties. But it didn’t make you feel any better. And even if there were people around, no one would have been able to help you.

Your brain isn’t working as clearly. Fear is the only thing that guides you. You’re reduced to a rat scampering through a maze. Sooner or later, that rodent reaches a dead end.

The alleyway was blocked off. You felt the rough brick wall scrape your hands and even the feeling of your raw skin couldn’t assuage your heart pumping in your throat. When you whirled your head back, it was right there, and you knew you were dead.

Again.

I might kill you, if it’s feeling generous. It might cut your legs off and watch you bleed, if its feeling kind. It might eat you, if it’s a decent curse.

It shouldn’t be happening. You fixed it. You were supposed to have fixed everything. But clearly you didn't. There must have been some piece of the puzzle that you forgot. Just one thing and if you go back and fixed it, everything would be okay. You forgive Suguru—

You don’t see what happens. One moment, the curse is there. The next it isn’t.

“Those things are so annoying.” The newcomer complains.

No, not new. You know him.

You blink. He grins. It’s kind. A toothy smile that warms.

“You alright?” He asks in sympathy. “Curses are pretty scary, aren’t they? Are you hurt?”

It’s him. You weren’t in 2006. You were in the present, here and now, and he was here with you.

He actually made it.

“Ma’am?” He asks.

It wasn’t intentional. You just blurted it out, the promise you made to him. It was a decade for him. Mere hours for you.

“Um, broccoli head...?” And then you instantly regret it.

Haibara Yu takes a minute, eyes squinting like you just grew a new head.

Then, he gasps.

“Greeny?”

ⴵ

A few minutes later, you’re seated at a restaurant. Haibara has not shut up.

“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again ‘cuz Gojo said you weren’t gonna be around anymore, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

“—Haibara.” You interrupt. “Please, slow down.”

He stops himself, right when the server comes with drinks. He shoots the waiter a smile, and then he’s back on you.

“Sorry.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I—I got a little excited. And nervous. It’s just...well, I didn’t expect you to be a girl.”

That might have been your fault. Both Haibara and Gojo kept referring to you as a man, so you decided to roll with it. Earlier, you would have justified it by insisting the less they know about you, the better. Now, you just think you were being petty.

“So, how you’ve been? A whole decade...” You murmur to yourself.

“Fine! But what about you?” Haibara asks, concern etched into his eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Wow, he was actually worried for you. Despite being in Suguru’s body, you didn’t really feel like part of the group Shoko, Gojo, Nanami, and Haibara were part of. You felt like an outsider, being somewhere you didn’t belong. It's because you were an outsider. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know one person missed you.

“This might be a little hard to believe, but I just came back to 2017 two hours ago.”

Haibara gapes.

“Wait, so to you, that whole thing happened, today?” You nod. He leans back in his chair.

“Holy fuck.” You laugh at his awe.

“Thanks for saving me, by the way.” You change the topic. “From the curse.”

He waves it off. “I was just paying my debt. From what you did for me all those years ago.”

Ah, Gojo must have told him. Oddly enough, Haibara doesn't seem all that perturbed that he shouldn’t exist currently. At the same time, it feels just like Haibara.

He’s different from when he was younger. Taller. The baby fat is gone. His face is more built, just like the rest of his body. His eyes are less round, but they haven’t lost the spark. A few scars here and there, but he’s all in one piece.

You weren’t able to see what he looked like as an adult from Suguru’s memories, he’d never grown up. But now, you can see it for yourself. You can see the active change you made in his life, to his life.

“Haibara—”

“Yu—” He says seriously. “My friends call me Yu.”

A smile twitches on your lips.

“Tell me about everyone.” You scoot your chair closer. “You, Suguru. How is everyone doing?”

He perks up at that, clearly delighted to be talking.

“Great! Everyone’s doing great! You should totally come visit the school, sometime. They’d love to see you. Uh, even if they don’t technically know you, but I’m sure they’ll love to meet you!” He rambles, and it’s nice to know he hasn’t changed from his younger self.

“Let’s see, Kento’s teaching the first years. I teach the second years—”

“—You’re a teacher?”

He nods. “We all are! Except for Shoko, but she has her own thing going on. Anyway, Mimiko and Nanako have become second-grade semi-sorcerors. Isn’t that incredible? I’m just a first grade semi-sorceror, and at their young ages too! But Suguru wasn’t surprised, he kept saying his girls were prodigies. Oh! You probably want to know about Suguru too, right?”

You nod. Even if you hadn’t done anything, you don’t think that would have stopped his enthusiasm.

“He’s a teacher too! At least, for right now. Yaga’s been wanting to retire, and there have been talks of Suguru becoming the next principal. Principal Geto has a ring to it, right? Oh, and Shoko is currently planning the wedding. You’ll definitely be invited, of course! She said I could bring a plus-one. Oh, and—”

It goes on like that for hours, you think. Not that you mind. You listen to Yu babble on and on about his friends, his students. He talks about Nanami’s recent baking addiction, Shoko’s new office cat, Suguru’s favorite tea pot. It’s a never-ending surge of information.

Eventually, you catch on to the fact that he’s deliberately leaving someone out.

"Yu?" You interrupt him while he's talking about the prank the fourth year pulled on Nanami. "What about Satoru? What's he up to?" 

Maybe you were overthinking things. Haibara likes to talk; perhaps he forgot to exclude someone else's story in his rants. But then, he grimaces. For the first time in this entire conversation, Haibara is reluctant to talk. 

"Satoru is..." He winces, and your hands turn into fists. 

No. No. You were supposed to save everyone. Why hadn't you saved everyone? 

A warm hand grips your own. You'd been shaking. 

Yu gives a soft smile, and you remember he's no longer younger than you. 

"He's not dead." He assures you, but his smile fades. He straightens himself up, and his hand pulls away. 

"Satoru defected from Jujutsu tech. We don't know where he is." 

What? You must have misheard him wrong. Satoru wouldn't do that. That's not like him. This is some sick joke.

But there's no teasing grin on Haibara. His face is grave. You hate it more than anything. 

"It happened when he was a fourth year. No one really knows what happened. Suguru refuses to say anything about it, but I think he's just as confused as the rest of us. It came outta nowhere." 

Yeah, it definitely came out of nowhere. It's so random. Why would Satoru do that? The last time you saw him, he was so happy. He was smiling; he teased you. What happened? It made no sense. 

"So, you haven't seen him for nine years?" You ask. "Not even a glimpse?" 

Yu shakes his head. "Nothing but his residuals. That's how we know he's still alive." 

Nothing computes in your brain. None of it made any sense. You saved Suguru. That was supposed to make everyone happy, including Satoru. Why would he turn around and do this? Defecting made no sense.

"We've actually been tasked to execute him. Since he’s been branded a curse user, all four of us. " Yu laughs with no humor. "Isn't that insane? I don't think any one of us could even fathom doing that, even if it were possible." 

It wasn't possible. Gojo was the strongest. Nothing could go toe to toe with him. Once he put his mind to something, no one could stop him.

But maybe you could. 

You're shutting that idea down immediately. You were done. You were done with dying and time-travel and strange powers. You wanted it all to be over. It'd be so easy to thank Haibara for the nice meal, to go home and sleep this entire day off. Satoru dug his own grave, he can go lay in it. You weren't responsible for someone else's actions. You wouldn’t. You can’t do that another time.

You're the kind of person who'll jump in front of a truck to save a kitten, right?

You hate that brat so much. 

You close your eyes. Take in a breath. Then, you open them. 

"Haibara?" You ask. "Did Gojo tell you how my technique worked?" 

He shakes his head. You grimace because convincing him might take a while.

"Okay, well, I'll need you to do a tiny favor for me."

ⴵ

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Oh, you're back already?" Satoru says casually, turning back to gaze at you. "I just left today. How did you convince Haibara to snap your neck? That guy cries after killing a mosquito.”

You’d caught him just as he was leaving campus. Yu’s body was less athletic than Suguru’s. Your breath was slightly ragged, pulled down by minor exhaustion.

It doesn’t weigh down your frustration for Gojo Satoru. The biggest pain in your ass you’ve ever met.

“Shut up.” You snap. “Just answer the question.”

“We haven’t seen each other for a year and that’s how you react?” Satoru ignores you. “That’s mean, Greeny. How ‘bout we discuss my treason over steak. Haibara can pay.”

“Satoru.” You beg, “Why are you doing this? What’s the point? Why is everyone happy with their life except for you?”

That seems to get him. His posture stiffens ever so slightly. You can see him work his jaw. He finally drops his act.

“You didn’t have to come back, y’know.” He murmurs quietly. “You could’ve just stayed in the future. Like you said, Greeny, everyone’s happy with their life. 4 outta’ five. That’s a passing grade.”

For once, you wish you could possess him. You wished you could open his brain and peer into his memories until he finally made sense.

“I could never leave you behind like that.” You say the truth just as quietly. “I’ll die a thousand more deaths than do that.”

He smiles. It looks genuine as it looks painful.

“Yeah, I know. I know you, Greeny. Always gotta’ play hero.” He gives a bitter laugh. “That’s why I defected.”

You stare at him. He’s a fourth-year now, even taller than before. You aren’t equal to him anymore in this body, now you’re starting to think you never were.

“Satoru.” You start because what he’s saying can’t be the truth. Your heart broke and broke. “Did—did you leave—did you leave everyone for a decade just so I’d come back? Why would you do that to yourself?”

He doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps forward, just a bit.

“It’s your fault,” Satoru says like it’s instinct to blame you for his actions, “this was your idea.”

What’s he talking about? And then memories of the two of you sitting on that bench just outside of campus.

What would you do if...there’s something you really want, but no matter how fast you run, you just can’t catch up to it? So that’s what he meant. You were an idiot.

“That’s not fair, Satoru,” you say regardless, “I—I never—I couldn’t expect you’d do this.”

“What choice did I fucking have, Greeny?” There’s rapid steps and he’s in front of you, desperate and wild. “You—you just left me here. You left me alone and I couldn’t even look for you because I know nothing about you. Your face, your eyes, your hair, not even your fucking name! How’s that fair?”

It’s true. It’s all true. As much as you tried to claim you tried to make everyone happy, you only focused on Suguru. And Suguru’s happiness enlisted space from the strongest. In a different timeline, things would be different between them. A button he never left behind. Words Satoru never said. That timeline held too much pain and suffering, so you scrubbed it from history. In this rendition, everything was changed. Suguru had Shoko. Yu had Kento. Who did Satoru have?

You saved Suguru in this timeline. But to save him, you neglected Satoru.

Satoru must have known. He must have known you intentionally distanced Suguru from him, but he allowed it anyway. Satoru’s selfless like that. Too giving. Too Godlike.

But he’s selfish too. Purposefully demeaning himself so he could get one more glimpse of you, uncaring if you went through hell for his sake. Too taking. Too human.

Once, you told him that if he was selfish, just once, you wouldn’t fault him. What a liar you are.

You forgive Satoru.

“I’m sorry.” Haibara’s voice is like your own. You step closer. His infinity lets you in. “I’m sorry Satoru. I didn’t mean to leave you alone.”

It’s hard to wrap him in a hug. The brat’s too big. He sinks into your touch like a tiger, filled with dangerous claws, retracted just for your sake. He shakes the tiniest bit; even now, he’s keeping himself as a pinnacle. If you hear a sniffle or two, you don’t comment on it.

It’s why your heart breaks to tell him the truth.

“I can’t give you my name.” You whisper in his ear. He pulls back. He doesn’t look at you.

“Yeah, I know. I know. time-travel bullshit—”

“For now.” You add. “I can’t do that for now.”

Three pairs of eyes look at you. You’re not hiding behind Haibara anymore. You’re not trying to.

“December 24th, 2017. 8:06. Tokyo Skytree.” You look at him. “Can you wait until then?”

For you, it’d only be an hour. For Satoru, it’d be a decade.

You expect him to reject it, to yell at you. You decide if he wants to be selfish; you’d let him.

“If you don’t show up, I’ll turn evil.” You laugh. His grin widens and he’s back again. “I’m serious. I’ll take over the world. I’ll throw the biggest temper tantrum ever.”

“You’re such a brat.” There’s no hostility in your tone. “I will. I promise.”

‘I’ll save you,’ You promise in your head because he’s too prideful to hear it.

“Is it still possible for you to go back?” You ask, the wariness present again. “The higher ups haven’t taken any action against you, right?”

He shakes his head.

“I think Yaga might yell at me, but other than that.” He shrugs. “They’ll decide it’s teen rebellion and sweep it under the rug.”

You laugh again. Satoru shoots you a toothy grin.

When you reach out a hand, Satoru mirrors you. He clasps your hand in his. For once, you wonder how they’ll feel on your own.

“See ya’ later, Greeny.”

A blink. Satoru’s gone. Your hand is empty, and you’re standing in the streets of Shinjuku once again.

ⴵ

December 24th, 2017. 8:06, at the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

Why did you decide on that date and time for all the places? You were so fucking stupid. You needed to stop being so poetic.

It’s already 7:12 when you’re desperately waving down a taxi. The driver looks disinterested when you blubber out the location. When he tells you it’ll cost extra because Sumida City isn’t part of his route, you’re more than happy to fork over the money.

It’s already 7:35 when you stumble through the interiors of Tokyo Skytree town. It’s crowded. Fuck, it’s December 24th, of course people would be out and about.

At 7:44, you finally reach the observational building. And then you hit upon a snag.

It’s closed.

Renovations, the sign reads, accompanied by an irritatingly cute drawing of a cat, please come visit us next week.

Would this excuse be enough to satisfy Satoru? You’re only human. Surely he’d understand if you couldn’t make it because the entire building was shut down.

Or wait. Was this Satoru’s doing?

You look up at the tower. Lights were still on and flickering. No crowds. No people. No prying eyes.

Let it be known that you’ve never trespassed before, until you met Gojo Satoru.

With a guilty conscious, you step over the line. You justify it by convincing yourself you were saving the world because you know Satoru wasn’t joking a decade ago.

The elevators still worked. Thank God. Yet another hint he’s paving the way for you. You made the location, but it feels like you’re a mouse stuck in a human-designed maze. Even though you set up the game, he’s still managed to rig it.

You land on the first deck at 7:52. At 7:56, you reach the second observational deck.

It’s empty. You’ve never seen the skytree so empty before. Not a single soul is here except for you. Your footsteps echo across the floor. Were you early?

Out the corner of your eye, there’s a post-it note stuck on the window. A hand-drawn arrow. Up ahead, there’s another one.

You follow the next, and then the next. All the time you don’t know how to feel about him doing all of this just for an encounter. Something bubbles in your stomach. You’re pushing it down.

You follow the post-its until there’s one placed right on top of a door.

Authorized personnel only. Why does this brat continue to test you?

But it’s already 8:03; you’re far too deep to complain.

A service elevator greets you. If you press the button, it’ll take you all the way up to the broadcast equipment, the top of the Tokyo Skytree.

It’s different from the past two elevator rides. The service elevator isn’t all that polished. The wheels squeak a little too dangerously at times. It’s slower, too.

That’s bad, because now you’re starting to think.

That familiar feeling boils within your stomach, again. You’re anxious. It’s strange to say, but meeting Satoru through Suguru, meeting Satoru through Yu, it felt like you had a protective shell around yourself. You were free from his judgement, only invoking curiosity.

If you show yourself to him, how would he react? What would he say? Would he get angry that you made him wait a decade for such a blunder? Even worse, what if he doesn’t get angry?

What if—what if he’s disappointed by you?

Cold feet. It freezes your toes. You want to go back. You want the elevator to go back down, you want to go home and hide away.

But you promised Satoru. He deserves answers.

Pathetic answers are better than no answers at all.

Instead of your soul being protected by a sorcerer's body, it’s protected by your own. You’d steel yourself for whatever comes next. You could melt after.

It’s windy up here. That’s the first thing you notice. Icy wind cuts at your face and your eyes squint so they don’t dry out so quickly. It’s colder, too; your jacket is nice protection, but nothing helps your vulnerable hands.

But the view. Oh, what a view.

The sea of twinkling lights shines from the city. The sun has set, leaving Tokyo to do nothing but shine. She’s gorgeous like she’s picked the stars from the sky, burying them within her own soul. You could stay there forever, if she let you.

It’s 8:09. Satoru was late.

Or maybe he just wasn’t planning to show up.

You lean away from the railing. It’s just like him to make huge gestures and at the last moment, ditch everything. The balloon in your lungs deflates ever so slightly.

And then, you can feel hands.

Around your shoulders, caging you in. Large and warm despite the icy air. You know these hands. They’re familiar, even a decade later. His chest presses up against your back. His face settles in the crook of your neck.

His laugh tickles your ear, and you aren’t so cold anymore.

“Caught ya, Greeny.”

(“Did something happen to you, back there in the house?”

"Hm?" Suguru asked.

They were wading through long grass and overgrown weeds. Satoru glances at his friend. Suguru looks fine. His cursed energy has gone back to normal. That's probably good.

"You were just acting weird," Satoru said, "I mean you fell on your ass in front of a curse. Embarrassing."

Suguru huffed, a red hue across his cheeks. "Shut up, don't remind me."

'So he remembered,' Satoru thinks, 'didn't expect that.'

They're almost to the car when Suguru speaks again.

"Actually, I did feel a little strange," he says, "I felt like I wasn't really all there. There was this voice, guiding me along."

"Really?" Satoru shivers. "That sounds creepy."

So the entity within Suguru was a bad thing after all. He should try to get rid of it if it ever comes back. It might take a complex spell or something-

"Not really." Suguru said. "It's hard to explain, but it felt....nice."

"Nice?" Satoru echoes.

"Yeah."

And then it's quiet again.)

DEVIL IN THE DARK : TODOROKI TOUYA x READER

SUMMARY: There is no price you will not pay for revenge—and a demon comes to collect. NOTES: First Prince of Hell Touya, gender neutral Reader, revenge, blood, slight body horror, SFW, 1.9k. I did not actually plan a proper Halloween fic this year so here you go!

It's cold on the crossroads, an icy wind whipping along the pavement, rustling in the trees. It sounds like hundreds of whispers in the dark, though you know the stretch of road around you is empty for miles.

That's the only way to summon the demon you're looking for—the only way they say he will answer. He is too clever to appear where he may be at a disadvantage.

Against one lone human, demon hunter though you may be, he stands every chance. Against you in particular, he fares even better. You are not the strongest in the League, were never the best in your class at the academy. You were more a strategist than a warrior, better with a pen than your regulation silver knife.

Your only certain way out is if the demon you're looking for chooses not to appear—or if his interest is adequately piqued by the deal you're offering. You do not know enough to be certain his attention will be assured.

Despite yourself, you take a breath and scratch his sigil in the dirt at the side of the road. It had taken you years to find, hidden by the Council after losing too many hunters eager to prove themselves against this specific demon.

But you are out for a very particular revenge. You would have searched your whole life if that is what it would have taken.

Nothing happens at first, as the final stroke of his sigil settles into the dirt. You wonder if he's chosen not to come.

But then, slowly, the wind dies down. The rustle of the trees grows softer, then still. The scant slivers of moonlight pool strangely in the road, like liquid silver dripping along the grooves of pavement. The wind trails off into a breeze, then the softest, sweetest hint of feeling, like the touch of a breath at your shoulder.

—A breath at your shoulder.

You jump, reeling sideways at the exhale across your skin. You barely choke down a scream when you catch sight of the man waiting behind you.

He's taller than you expected, long and lean. His looks are also surprisingly human, save for the twisting horns curling out of the inky black of his hair, and the patchwork of purpling burns over his skin, left by a magic you don't even want to contemplate.

He's shockingly handsome, though, under the burns, his features perfect, careful, delicate—almost angelic. His mouth is a soft, sensuous curl, at odds with the hard, exacting blue of his gaze. He is watching you like a cat tracking a bug skittering across the floor, and every particle in your body screams with the desire to flee.

You plant your feet firmly in the dirt instead, trying to steel your nerves. But the First Prince of Hell's mouth lifts, a derisive twist of amusement.

"Your kind might be fooled," he says, his voice a low drawl. "But I can hear your heartbeat, human."

As if on cue, you can feel your heartbeat stutter and skip. But still you still your shaking fingers against your thigh. This is what you have worked for; you have come with a plan.

"Prince Touya," you acknowledge him, willing yourself to sound calm. "I am here to make a deal."

A sardonic eyebrow lifts as his eyes flick meaningfully to the knife at your hip, then back up to your face. "A hunter looking to bargain with a demon?"

You force yourself to look into the burning cerulean of his eyes, twin points of eerie blue in the dim. "Yes."

Touya does not look even mildly interested. "Let me guess, you want me to hold still while you stab."

You certainly do, and Touya smirks when your expression gives you away. But there is one thing you want more than to prove your worth upon a demon prince. One thing you are certain you can only get from him.

"I want you to lure your father out," you grit your teeth, spitting the words out quickly before you lose your nerve.

Prince Touya visibly pauses, expression icing over. The shadows around you seem to deepen, and a cloud draws across the moon, casting you into an even deeper dark. A shiver crawls down your spine.

"My father," he spits out, his tone blacker than the night.

You force yourself to nod. All the legends say there is no love lost between the First Prince and the King of Hell, detailing their many clashes across the eons, and the destruction that followed in their wake. You only hope that they have not found it within themselves to make amends in the five hundred or so years since the most recent accounts were written.

"And what would a little nothing demon hunter do with the King of Hell?" Prince Touya demands, taking a step closer. He moves sinuously, like a curl of mist. "Your blade bears not even a drop of demon's blood—I can smell it."

It is true, you have never killed a demon. "It would not be me. I need you to lure him into the League's trap. And there will be others, many hunters equal to the task."

Prince Touya studies you for a long moment, those eyes glimmering in the dark. "The League's gotten more underhanded since I encountered you last. And what would I get out of this deal?"

"The throne of Hell," you say. "The death of your enemy."

Touya steps closer, near enough that you can feel the heat of him, smell the magic of Hell on him. He smells heady and dark, rich like cinnamon and smoke. His proximity makes your blood race.

"And this trap that's going spring closed will exclude me, will it?" he asks. There's a little rasp on the edge of his voice, you notice.

It wouldn't, and you had hoped the prince would not think to ask it. But he has not survived millennia being stupid.

Your non-answer is enough for him, and he snorts as he walks a wide circle around you. In the silence of the night you can clearly hear the crunch of his boots in the dirt. You stand stock-still and pretend you are not unnerved by his attention, by the way he paces with the slow, unhurried gait of a predator.

"This trap of yours," he says finally, "Who's devised it?"

You feel him pass behind your back. "I did."

"You who have never killed a demon," he says drily.

You try to quell your temper, knowing you would not survive it were you to raise his. "Not directly."

Prince Touya's grin is a wicked thing as he stops in front of you, catching your eye. It is a touch too wide, a touch too pleased. His teeth are too white, canines too sharp.

"I thought hunters were supposed to be honorable," he says, tone gloating.

Many things were supposed to be that weren't. Your family was supposed to be alive, for one. But the King of Hell had seen to that, and now nothing was as it should have been.

"I thought demons were supposed to crave deals," you reply. A non answer.

Touya circles behind you again, passing close enough that your skin prickles.

"I want something else," he says finally, clearly enjoying the way it makes you stiffen. "The death of my father is something I can do myself. I'll need more if I'm to change my mind."

"What else do you want?" you ask.

Prince Touya stops in front of you again, too close for comfort. He is warm, too warm. His handsome face twists in another grin.

"A blood oath," he says, leaning down to catch your gaze.

A streak of fear tears down your gut. A blood oath would bind you to him, something he could easily leverage to escape what you had planned. It would ensure you could never raise a hand against him, would be compelled to obey him were he to come calling.

And demons always, always came calling.

Good sense told you to refuse, but of course good sense had told you never to come here in the first place. The First Prince's demise was a hoped-for bonus, but the King of Hell was who you were really after. You had all but already made up your mind.

In the end, there is only one choice to be made.

"Fine," you accept, letting a slow breath out. Your hand falls to your belt for your silver knife, unstrapping it and drawing it across your palm before you can talk yourself out of it.

Touya's eyes track the well of blood, glinting, a twinge of delight passing across his beautiful features. He raises a black claw and pricks his own palm open, pressing his hand to yours, fingers closing over you.

You nearly startle out of your skin at the feeling of those long fingers on your skin, the careful rasp of his claws over your wrist. His hold on you helps steady you when you realize his blood is not pooling the same way as yours—it’s moving, sliding as if of its own volition into the cut on your palm, seeping inside you as your own continues to pour out.

You have to close your eyes to keep from feeling sick.

There's a sweep of heat through your veins as he settles deeper into your bloodstream, warming you like a shot of whiskey. It settles into something almost pleasant, then disappears, as if growing dormant within you. And then it’s over. 

And then it’s done.

Your eyes blink back open when you feel Touya’s hand shift yours in his grip, and then he raises your hand to his mouth, licking across your palm. It’s another shock of warmth, his mouth surprisingly soft, gentle against your injury. His long eyelashes flutter shut as he tastes you, and it's all you can do to hold still again, not to curl away in disgust or embarrassment—or anything else.

Touya's eyes glow brighter when he raises them to your face again, and a pleased smile curls his mouth.

"Just as sweet as you look," he purrs, and you prickle. But disturbingly, he genuinely seems to mean it, tongue passing across his bottom lip to sweep up more of the taste of you.

Something unsettled churns in your gut.

You wonder if you haven’t gotten yourself into something deeper than you’d understood.

But Touya is already moving, pressing a wry kiss to your palm in a horrible mockery of intimacy. Then he steps away, leaving you feeling strangely cold.

"A pleasure doing business with you, little hunter," he tells you, as a scant breeze begins to pick up at your feet again. A few leaves skitter across the pavement, almost deafening against the prior silence.

The first glimmer of moonlight almost blinds you as the clouds move again, the wind starting back up. The dim pools and gathers around Prince Touya as he melds back into the dark, stepping back as if into a patch of shadow.

"I'll be seeing you very soon," he promises, his voice growing soft and low. 

You don’t doubt it, and another shiver creeps down your spine. But it’s too late to go back now, and Touya knows it too.

The last thing you see before he disappears is that white smile in the dark—before you're left alone with the weight of the decision you've just made. And the cost of your revenge.

devil's glare || katsuki b.

pairing: demon!bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 8.7k+

mentions: modern au where there are supernatural beings hiding amongst the population, no pronouns mentioned i think!, tho there might be implied fem reader idk, pining & lots of it, fluff, kinda spicy/suggestive near the end, innuendos galore, human reader, salt circles keep out demons if u didnt know tht

a/n: idk why but i felt like boo boo the fool while making the banner LMAO this wasn't supposed to be this long but i couldn't help myself. special thank u to @/reddriot, @/cellotonins, & my homies in the jjgc for helping me w ideas and giving encouragement!! ly<3 hope u guys enjoy!!

✧˖° bakugou katsuki is a powerful demon that you have the pleasure of dating. but when he pisses you off one day, you decide to get back at him in a pretty petty way: drawing a salt circle around you to force him to apologize.

"Hey! Whatcha up to?"

You glanced up, your eyes landing on the familiar slim figure of Mina as she stood a few meters away from you. You gave her a wave, your body nestled comfortably in the green beanbag chair you had in your cozy little living room.

"Hey!" you greeted her as you sat up slightly and adjusted your laptop on your thighs. "How'd you get in here? I thought I'd locked the door?"

"Spare key, remember?" She grinned sharply at you, holding up a pink hand that had a tiny silver key pinched between her thumb and index fingers. Of course. You rolled your eyes, flapping a hand at her so she could tell you why she was breaking into your house on a Saturday evening. "Soooo.... I thought we could hang, but I see you’re a bit preoccupied."

"Whatever gave you that idea?" you asked dryly, raising an eyebrow at her from behind your laptop screen.

"Gee, let me guess." She hummed as she tapped her chin before looking pointedly down at the wooden floor. You followed her gaze. "Maybe the fucking salt circle you have around you?"

You sighed. "Yeah, I’m kinda pissed at Katsuki. I don't want him coming anywhere near me, is all. For now."

She pouted at you, her arms crossing themselves over her chest. "But the salt circle also keeps me out, you know."

You cocked your head to the side and squinted at her—her and her pink skin and pretty dark sclera. "I thought you were a shapeshifter?"

"Yeah, but I'm also part succubus," she said as she puffed her cheeks out like she was a toddler and not a fucking supernatural being, pointing to the yellow horns that stuck out from her pink hair. You only shrugged at her.

"Sorry Mina, but I'm not getting rid of the salt circle," you told her apologetically. You were very comfortable and safe inside of it, thank you very much. You wouldn't jeopardize that, even for her.

"How long have you been like this anyways?" she asked, leaning her body against the opening to the living room that led down to the front door. "And are you... okay?"

Your expression softened at her concern. "I'm fine, honestly! Just a bit peeved at him, but he's a brat, y'know? Maybe the salt circle will teach him a lesson." You glanced at the analog clock that hung up on the wall to your right, just above the T.V. "I've been here a few hours now." That was a lie. You've been like this for the entire day, waiting for when Katsuki would eventually make his way back home. You were patient, if not stubborn.

"Riiight," she rolled her golden coins for eyes at you, "and where's Katsuki?"

You shrugged. "Beats me. The last time I saw him was this morning."

"So he doesn't know you did," she waved her hand at the floor, "this?"

"Nope! We had a bit of a…” you paused, searching for the right word, “...disagreement, and then he went off to do… whatever he does."

"Actually I saw him like, an hour ago with Eiji," she told you, standing up straight to rock back and forth on her heels. A dimple formed on her cheek as she curled her lips to the side. "He might be on his way back here, I dunno."

"Oh," you blinked at her, then ran a hand through your hair, "he might be, yeah. He usually comes back home around this time."

"Yup, yup!" She gave you a thumbs up only for her expression to suddenly twist into a sad pout. "So I’m guessing no hangout night?" She made a sadder face that drew a small laugh from you.

You gave her an apologetic look and sank back into your beanbag, propping your feet up on the small coffee table you had positioned in front of the couch. You’d made the circle large enough that it contained a decent amount of space in addition to the table and couch. "Aw, I’m sorry. Maybe some other day?"

"Boo, fine!" She let out a dramatic sigh, raising the back of her hand to her pink forehead. “When will I ever have you to myself instead of stinky Katsuki, my love?” You rolled your eyes in good nature, giggling at her antics. She shot you a grin, her skin shifting into a light brown shade as she gave you a little salute. She turned on her heels to skip her way out of the front door, lest she get caught up in the raging hellfire that was Bakugou Katsuki. "Call me if you need anything! Laterz!"

"Bye!" you called out wryly, a bit amused at her coming to see you for what was literally five minutes. You felt a bit bad, but well, you had other things to deal with.

The moment the front door clicked shut, you felt that signature ripple through the air that made the hairs on your arms raise—the one that always told you he was near. The temperature in the room got slightly warmer and you sighed, returning your focus to your laptop. You could see, from the corner of your eye, the way the shadows of your home seemed to be drawn towards the corner of the living room that was the darkest, right outside of the salt circle. You huffed. He was so dramatic.

You ignored him as he stepped out from the darkness, all tanned muscle and sharp, sharp claws. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, to your annoyance, his sculpted torso with all its rough scars on full display. Leathery, burgundy wings unfurled from his back, stretching outwards before curling neatly above him. Burning crimson eyes scanned his surroundings, his mouth opening in a fanged snarl as they eventually latched onto your form.

"The fuck is this?" Katsuki hissed as he stalked up to the circle and glared down at it as though it had personally offended him, his mother, and his father all at once.

"What?" you asked innocently, your gaze trained on your laptop instead of him. He let out another snarl at your lack of attention. "The salt circle?"

"No, the fuckin' T.V.—yes the fuckin' salt circle!"

"It's to keep you away from me," you informed him cheerfully, removing your feet from the table so you could stretch them out on the floor. You looked up at him when he made an angry noise. He started prowling around the circle, likely looking for any gaps in its circumference. He wasn't going to find any—you were very efficient when making it. Though, he certainly looked quite scary, stalking around you like that. Thank god you made the circle kind of big—he couldn't reach you at all, even if he wanted to try.

"You're pissed," he grumbled. He came to a stop somewhere near the T.V., his long, ruby red tail flicking back and forth behind him.

"No shit." You frowned at him, setting your laptop on the table so you could cross your arms at him from atop your throne of a beanbag.

He growled at you, an intimidating thing that came from the deepest part of his chest. You only tightened your position, glaring at him as he glared back with enough heat to rival the sun.

"'M not fuckin' messing around," he snarled, making himself appear bigger as he opened his wings a bit more. The black horns on his head cast shadows across his face in a way that made his eyes glow brighter. Like gleaming red giants in the night sky. "Get rid of the fucking circle."

"I'm not either," you huffed back, adamant on your position. "You need to stop putting my shit on the shelves I can’t reach!!! It’s annoying!!"

"You’re overreactin’," Katsuki said gruffly, hands curling and uncurling at his sides. Smoke puffed from his palms, little clouds of grey that dissipated in the air. “S’not my problem you’re tiny.”

"Am I?" you replied in irritation. "Speaking of that—making fun of how small I am in comparison to you is annoying as hell too!!"

He huffed and bared his canines at you. "Jus’ get outta the damn circle." He wasn’t acknowledging what you were saying!! The nerve he had.

"No." You frowned at him. He shot you a grumpy pout and started prowling around again, steps so heavy you could nearly feel them echoing through the floor.

You eyed him warily, leaning back slightly. "Are you going to stop teasing me? And apologize?" The way he scoffed and directed his glare off to the side told you what his response would be. You harrumphed and turned back to your laptop, pulling it back onto your lap. "Then I'm staying in here, whether you like it or not."

He growled some more. "Babe." You ignored him, tapping away at your keyboard. "Babe. You're bein' fucking dumb."

"Insulting me isn't gonna get you anywhere, Katsuki," you remarked dryly. He glowered at you.

"This is fuckin' stupid," he sniped at you. When you didn't say anything he swore loudly and shot his hands forward, aiming them at the salt circle. His knees bent slightly as he took on a fighting stance. "I'll jus’ blast this shit away! No way it's stronger than me—"

You snapped your head up, seeing the way his palms glowed a hot orange. Oh, he was being serious. You shouted at him, "Bakugou Katsuki if you blast a fucking hole in my floor I'll draw a salt circle around the whole house!!"

"I'll fix it." He grinned sharply, wildly, hands igniting in a blazing tangerine color that was a bright white at the center of his palms. You had just enough time to throw your hands over your head before a small explosion erupted throughout the living room. Your ears rang in the aftermath, your breaths bated.

You made a surprised sound, peeking your head from your arms to see the smoke that had swirled around you. Only, it was blocked by something, not able to enter into your space. You stood up and placed your hands on your hips as the smoke parted to reveal a scowling Katsuki. And a still intact salt circle.

You raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed. "That just made me even more unlikely to come out, you know that right?"

Katsuki only snarled, hands still popping with tiny explosions. The scent of burnt caramel permeated through the air. "Whatever. Y'can't stay in there forever."

"Watch me," you retorted, the glint of a challenge shining in your eyes.

---

Katsuki wouldn’t leave you alone.

He was always lurking at the very edge of the salt circle, glaring at you so intensely you would’ve been dead ten times over if he had any power to kill with his eyes alone. You knew he was doing something trippy with his powers, forcing the shadows to cling to him to make himself look even scarier. He stayed in his more demonic-looking form, too—both you and him knew he could look normal if he wanted. If he was trying to intimidate you into submission, it wasn't working.

You bid your time, doing your best to ignore him and his dark presence at the corner of your vision. You watched a show on your laptop and snacked away at the takeout you were smart enough to order while he’d been out of the house.

Maybe you were being petty, maybe you were being mean, but well, he deserved to get knocked down a few pegs. The way he sometimes looked down at you—raising his stupidly perfect eyebrows—just got on your nerves. And when he purposely put your cooking supplies on the top shelves so you’d be forced to ask him for help… He knew what he was doing! He never allowed you to climb on top of the cupboards or on a chair either, always swooping in at the right time to snatch you by the waist and set you on the ground like you were a child and not a fully-grown adult. It was annoying! And also kind of… demeaning? Intentional or not.

You knew Katsuki. You knew his pride would prevent him from properly apologizing to you, especially since you were acting so pettily by not allowing him anywhere near you. He was stubborn, if not petulant, and this was what led him to sit outside your circle, pouting heavily at you with puffed cheeks. You were playing a game to see who would last longer, with the consequence being touch-starvation. And by god, you were determined to win.

A few hours passed like this, with him not moving from his seated position to your left. He had an arm propped on one of his knees that was bent up close to his chest. The way he hid his lower face behind it made the depth of his stare infinitely more piercing. He was clearly trying to burn the side of your head off, with how intense he was being. Luckily for you, you were basically immune, having known him for so long. You glanced over at him, the distance between the two of you, then sat up on your beanbag chair. It was getting pretty late and you were slightly sore from sitting in the same spot for so long.

You placed your laptop neatly on the table and stood up, stretching your arms and back out. It drew a deep sigh from you, and you rubbed at your hip before you turned to walk the five steps it took to get to Katsuki. You stopped just before the salt line and looked down at him. Then you waited, an expectant look on your face.

He glowered and shifted his long legs around so he could slowly stand up. Your head followed the motion, watching as he rolled his thick shoulders and stood at his full, towering height. His shadow drowned you, his burgundy wings extending out so it could curl above you in a threatening manner. You looked at him, ignoring the way he purposely flexed his pecs and cracked his neck. That wasn’t going to work on you.

So there you stood, pretty little you, dressed in fuzzy socks, sweats, and a shirt with a little bunny on it, staring up at this bristling, scowling demon as though he didn’t look like he was about to murder you with all the strength in his arms.

Katsuki snarled and his large hand shot out as though to grab you now that you were literal inches away from him. But something stopped him, something that made a vein pop out on his forehead. The muscles in his arm strained, but he couldn’t reach you. Couldn’t touch you. And you simply smirked.

“Giving up yet?” you asked him slyly, crossing your arms.

“Fuck you, human,” he bit back harshly as he drew back his hand. His voice was deep and raspy, nearly sending a shiver scuttling down your spine. His tail flicked irritably behind him. “Ya gotta get outta there eventually. Don’t y’have human needs you need to take care of before sleepin’?”

“What, like brushing my teeth and stuff?” You rolled your eyes and took a step back from him. He growled at you once you did, eyes unwavering as he continued to glare at you. “I can skip a night, if I have to, demon.”

His chin wrinkled as he pouted. “S’not proper hygiene.”

“Yeah, but I’m not leaving the circle,” you replied cheerfully as you walked over to your laptop to shut it down. You took a drink of water from one of the bottles you had on the table, swished it around your mouth a bit, then sat down on the couch so you could lay yourself along it to sleep on for the night.

You made yourself comfy on your side, bunching one of the couch pillows under your head and arms. Like this, you were facing Katsuki as he stood at the same spot you’d left him. He slouched forward, tucking his clawed hands into the pockets of the black sweats you’d bought him a while ago.

“You know, all you have to do is apologize,” you reminded him. You curled your legs up closer to your chest. “Isn’t that hard.”

Katuski looked like he was chewing on his tongue for a moment, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled a bit. You waited to see what he would do, but something shifted in his expression and he only huffed loudly. He turned on his heel and stormed away in the direction of your bedroom, his feet stomping away at the floor.

You only rolled your eyes at his attitude, nestling further into the couch.

---

Something smelled good.

You woke up to it, your eyes still closed as you inhaled deeply. It was familiar and you found yourself peeking an eye open slightly in curiosity. You hadn’t taken off the lights in the living room last night—the light switch was outside of the circle—so you had to blink a few times to allow your retinas to adjust. You sat up slowly, rolling your neck and shoulders to get rid of the stiffness that came with sleeping on a couch for nine hours. You squinted then raised your eyes to look at Katsuki, who was standing beyond the salt circle with a plate in his hands and your tiny apron wrapped around his equally tiny waist.

“Morning,” you told him sleepily, one of your hands combing through your hair in an attempt to fix it.

“Made breakfast,” was his short reply, nodding his head at the plate in his hand. He lowered it slightly so you could see it was your favorite. You raised an eyebrow.

“Did you now,” you hummed as you leaned forward to grab your phone from the table to check the time. It was almost nine in the morning. You yawned and stretched your arms up in the air. You didn’t know if it was a demon thing or a Katsuki thing, but he was ridiculously good at cooking and he knew it. You were strong, however. It would take more than a home cooked breakfast to get you to crack. “You resorting to bribery?”

He scoffed loudly. “If it’ll get you to leave the fuckin’ circle.”

You smiled at him but didn’t get up from the couch, only slouching into the cushions further. You switched your attention to your phone, back to ignoring Katsuki for the time being. You had to bite your lower lip when he growled and sat down on the floor, still holding the comically small plate in his huge hands.

You knew you would be able to last much longer than him. But you had a bit of a problem—something you could only solve if you got a bit of outside help. You navigated to the messages app on your phone and opened up the chat you had with Mina.

hey, can i ask you for a favor, you texted her. You only had to wait a few minutes before the little typing bubble on her end popped up.

sure thing bestie. what’s up? kacchan bothering u? >:((

can you and eiji distract him for an hour or smth? i hv to pee like… rly badly LOL. This wasn’t something you’d thought out very well, apparently.

LMAOOOOO YEA SURE KSDHFKSJ go piss girl!!!

my bladder and i thank you and him very much <33

You let out a breath of air and rested your head back on the cushion. While it wasn’t an immediate problem for you, you knew it would be eventually. If Mina and Eijirou could get Katsuki out of the house for a bit it could allow you to freshen up in the bathroom, maybe take a speedy shower. You scrolled idly on your phone for a bit, physically forcing yourself to not look up when you heard his phone let out a ding. And then another. And another. Damn, what was Mina doing?

You heard him grumble under his breath for a few minutes. Then, he stood up and paced to the kitchen. You pretended to read something as he came back into the living room while pulling on a black shirt with a skull on it. His wings and horns were gone, and when you peeked at his eyes they were no longer glowing that bright crimson color they always were when he was around you or his friends.

“Be back,” he mumbled, not looking up at you as you waved a hand at him as a farewell. He stomped his way over to the front door and pulled it open, then disappeared into the outside world. The temperature in the house dropped slightly with his departure. You waited a few minutes after the door closed, holding your breath and straining your ears to see if you could still hear him. Then, you exhaled and jumped up. You jogged over to the salt circle and hopped across it, making a beeline for the bathroom.

It didn’t take you long to brush your teeth and take a quick shower. You had to keep in mind that you had limited time to really do anything. You shuffled around in your bedroom, your towel wrapped around your body as you picked through your clothes. Should you go for something casual again or something… cuter? Maybe dressing up a bit would make him more likely to fold. You hummed as you pulled out a nice shirt and skirt, then shifted in your sock drawer to pull out a pair of thigh highs. Oh yeah. You usually saved those bad boys for dates—Katsuki absolutely loved how you looked in them, you knew that. Not that he would admit that to your face.

You snickered as you pulled on your outfit and sprayed some perfume he also liked. Maybe a bit of lip gloss while you were at it. A cute hairstyle. Was this going overboard? Oh well!

Once you were done, you exited the room and headed for the kitchen. Your expression softened as you saw the dishes drying on the little rack you had for them. You pulled open the fridge and took out the plate of food he had neatly saran-wrapped. The mere act of him cooking this for you had something tugging at your heart. Even if it was to lure you out of the circle, you still appreciated it.

You spent a bit eating what he’d made, keeping an eye on the time all the while. You should still have about twenty minutes before he would return—assuming Mina was going by the exact hour like you’d told her. You polished off the plate and washed it before you tucked it on the dish rack. After heading to your room to fix up your face again, you steadily made your way back over to the living room.

But just as you approached the opening that led to it, you heard the front door open—felt the temperature increase once more.

You froze, snapping your head to the entrance to see Katsuki standing there, fifteen minutes earlier than you’d expected. His crimson eyes immediately locked onto your form, his hand still gripping onto the doorknob of the open door. You blinked at him, the way he tensed his shoulders under his shirt. You could see the way his burning eyes moved from your clothed feet, lingered around the exposed parts of your thighs above your socks, hovered around your torso and shoulders, stared at your shiny lips, before they eventually landed on your eyes. A beat passed. Then another.

You lunged for the salt circle, arms extended out before you as you ducked into a roll over the line of salt. A yelp left your lips as you felt the graze of his claws on your back. He snarled something as you landed on the floor on your ass, your heart racing a hundred miles an hour at the close call you just had. You brought a hand up to your chest and let out a deep breath of air before you twisted yourself around on the ground to look at him.

“You little fuckin’ minx,” Katsuki snarled, his body tensed at the edge of the salt circle as he bared his fangs at you. There was a ripping sound, his wings erupting from his back through his shirt as his horns sprouted on his head. His eyes sparked to life again, both of his hands pressed against that invisible shield you had to protect you. His tail whipped in a frenzy behind him. “Fuckin’ cheater.”

“Welcome home, handsome,” you greeted him with a mischievous grin, heaving yourself to your feet so you could brush your clothes off and properly face him.

“Y’got Raccoon Eyes and Shitty Hair to distract me on purpose,” he hissed out as a response, his eyes narrowing at you.

You shrugged at him and turned around to plop down on your beanbag again. “I dunno, did I?” Then, as an afterthought, you added, “Breakfast was great, by the way.”

He only growled at you some more—an angry thing that made goosebumps break out on your skin. You wisely elected to ignore him, snatching your phone from the couch to peek at your notifications. There was one from Mina, sent to you about ten minutes ago:

he figured us out!!! he’s on his way rn bestie run!!

If only you’d actually taken your phone with you. Then you wouldn’t have had to parkour your way into the circle.

Small explosions erupted from Katsuki’s palms, sparks flying into the air above them. His voice was low, dangerous, when he spoke. “Get. Out.”

“Apologize,” you said in turn, giving him a pointed look. When all he did was scowl at you, you shrugged and set your phone to the side so you could grab your laptop. “Then no.”

Katsuki kept a closer eye on you after that.

In retaliation to your change in clothes, you found that he’d stripped down to his briefs to reveal this thick fucking thighs and calves. You wouldn’t have realized if he hadn’t thrown his fucking shirt at you, nailing you right in the face in a way that made you jump. Then, once he realized he could throw things at you, he did the same thing with his sweats, hitting you in the face once more as you spluttered and looked over at him.

He only gave you a pointed stare as he crossed his arms under his pecs and leaned against one of the living room walls with his wings folded behind him. He was goddamn attractive—he knew that, you knew that, he knew that you knew that... You were determined to not let that affect you, however, rolling your eyes at his actions. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before; he couldn’t crack you like that.

You didn’t know how he wasn’t bored just standing there, watching you. At least you were able to keep yourself busy by doing work on your laptop or watching a show. But him? All he did was stare at you. It made you a bit self-conscious, but you couldn’t really do anything about it, could you?

At one point in the afternoon, he pushed himself off the wall and disappeared elsewhere in the house. You only spared him a glance, part of you wondering what he was up to this time. You got your answer when you heard a faucet turn on from the bathroom. Was he going to shower? You returned your focus to your laptop only to look up again when you heard him walk back into the living room ten minutes later. You immediately looked back at your laptop, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your staring.

“Ran a bath with those dumb salts you like,” Katsuki grumbled, wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped around his waist. Somehow that was worse than him parading around in his briefs.

“Yeah?” you responded in what you hoped was an aloof manner. Enticing you with a bath was not going to work either—even with the implication that he would join you for once. “Have fun.”

He lingered a bit, as though to see if you would cave. But when you didn’t and merely hit play again on the episode you were on, he scowled and stomped away. You had to suppress a smile as you listened to him curse to himself in the bathroom. Maybe after all of this you’ll treat him to something for all the suffering you were causing. Maybe.

You almost didn’t notice when he wandered back into the living room after his bath, one of his hands rubbing at his damp hair with a towel while the other typed away at his phone. He’d finally pulled back on some sweats, though his chest glistened with droplets of water that ran down the inclines of his chest and abdomen. You snorted a little to yourself, then paused when the doorbell suddenly rang.

You looked at the front door, then at Katsuki. “Are you expecting anyone?” When he shook his head no, you glanced at your phone to check if you had any notifications. You didn’t. You looked back at him to see he had reverted back to his more human-looking form. “Can you go check?”

He only raised an eyebrow at you, pocketing his phone. “No. You check.”

You gave him an unimpressed look. “Katsuki. Go check the door.”

“No.”

You sighed—you knew what he was doing here. Before you could open your mouth to argue with him, however, the door opened on its own. Both your heads snapped towards it to see who’d entered. It was Mina again, to your confusion, gripping that little silver key in her fingers as she paraded in with a few other people. You recognized the familiar red hair of Eijirou, along with the bright yellow of Denki and deep black of Hanta. They waved at you cheerfully as they walked over.

“What… are you guys doing here?” you asked in surprise, setting your laptop to the side so you could stand up and walk to the edge of the salt circle. They were all normal-looking, though as soon as the front door clicked shut, their appearances shifted to their more natural ones.

“A certain pink shifter let slip what you were doing with Kacchan over here,” Denki said slyly, his black tail lazily waving behind him. He took one long look at the salt circle, then over at the constipated expression on Katsuki’s face, before he broke out in rambunctious laughter. One of Katsuki’s eyes twitched, his teeth bared in a silent snarl.

“We thought you could use a bit of company!” Mina snickered, one of her fingers innocently twirling a strand of her pink hair. “Maybe some encouragement!”

“I almost didn’t believe it,” Hanta choked out through his cackles, kneeling against the ground as he banged his fist against it. He raised himself up to wipe a tear from his eye, a wide shit-eating grin on his face. “Holy shit, Kacchan you really did this to yourself, huh?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki grunted and his arms moved to cross themselves over his bare chest, the towel thrown over one of his shoulders. He glared at his friends, but they only ignored him, laughing harder at his expression.

“Man, all you gotta do is apologize!” Eijirou told him through his own sharp grin, the wolf ears on his head twitching slightly as his friends cackled around him. “It’s not that hard!”

“That’s what I keep telling him,” you huffed, a smile on your face. Katsuki only gave you the stink eye. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“We—” Denki coughed into his fist, his cheeks red from cry-laughing. “We d-didn’t just come here to laugh, you know.”

“Yeah,” Hanta added in, picking his lanky figure up from the ground to give you a fanged smile. “We came bearing gifts.”

You raised an eyebrow at them. “Gifts?”

It was then that you realized Eijirou was holding a small, paper bag. Hanta and Denki both reached into it when Eijirou held out to them. You looked at them curiously, then let out a pfft when they each pulled out a carton of salt and a small water gun, respectively. Katsuki let out a snarl when he saw the carton of salt in Hanta’s hand.

“Hell yeah!” You grinned widely as Hanta did a dramatic wave with his free hand and brandished the salt at you.

“Hell no!” Katsuki rasped, swiping a clawed hand at Hanta who let out a yelp and leaped over the line of salt on the ground to join you in your circle. “Soy Sauce Face, I swear to All Might I'll shove garlic so far down your throat you’ll be shittin’ cloves for weeks. Get back here.”

“Man, how are you gonna do that from aaaallll the way over there?” Hanta grinned as he walked closer to you to throw an arm around your shoulders. You let out a laugh when he tugged you close to his side. “Sorry Kacchan but this is my lover now.”

Katsuki let out an animalistic sound, his hands pressing against the force that prevented him from crossing the salt circle. You only gave him a smile and watched as Hanta walked over to another part of the salt circle. He popped open the little nozzle on the carton and promptly turned it upside down. The salt spilled from it like a white, crystalline waterfall to add on to what was already on the floor. This was going to be a bitch to clean up.

“You know,” Mina giggled as she watched Hanta walk around the inside of the circle’s circumference, “I don’t think that's how that works.”

“It’s not but I appreciate the attempt,” you added amusedly, stepping away to give Hanta more room to thicken the circle.

“Stop that, right the fuck now,” Katsuki hissed as he attempted to grab Hanta as he walked by. He failed, of course. You almost felt bad for him.

“Or what?” Hanta snickered. “Gonna cry?”

“Piss your pants?” Mina cackled, then let out a small scream when Katsuki directed his glare at her. She stepped behind Denki, who was twirling the water gun in his hand, a wide smirk stretching across his face.

“Maybe shit and cu— WAHADHDFJG!” Denki yelped as Katsuki lunged towards him, snarling furiously. He pointed the water gun at Katsuki and pulled on the trigger to squirt whatever was inside it at the ash-blond. You snapped your head towards them when Katsuki let out a pained hiss and backed away from Denki as he clutched at his face.

“What’s in that?!” Your eyes widened, stepping closer to the edge of the circle so you could peer at Katsuki. He growled lowly as he looked up, the skin on his cheek an irritated pink. His wings extended out, crimson eyes practically glowing as he glared at Denki, who only raised his hands up in surrender.

“What the fuck, Discount Pikachu?!” Katsuki almost roared out, his hair bristling and his hands flexing angrily. “Is that fuckin’ holy water?!”

“It’s diluted!!!” Denki screamed as Katsuki pounced at him again, somehow managing to evade the irate demon. He ran around the circle to try to avoid Katsuki chasing after him with a dangerous growl. “It won’t hurt that much!!” You frowned at his words.

“How the hell did you even get that?!” you asked, your lips pulling to the side in a grimace.

“He asked Shouto for help blessing it,” Eijirou told you and you let out an ohh. Shouto was part angel, so that made sense.

“I told him not to bring it!!” Mina called out, her and Eijirou retreating closer to the front door in case they needed to make a mad dash out of it.

“Bro didn’t listen,” Eijirou said with a shrug, “Whatever Katsuki does is deserved.”

“Rude!!” Denki yelped again when Katsuki got a bit too close to him and sprayed the demon again across the chest this time. You hadn’t noticed before, but his skin made a slight sizzling sound when the holy water came in contact with it. Katsuki hissed but continued his stomping around the circle to try to grab Denki. Yeah, you didn’t think diluted holy water was going to stop him anytime soon.

“But aren’t you an incubus, Denki?” you asked confusedly, spinning in a little circle to watch said incubus run around. “Won’t the water hurt you too?”

“I got gloves on, it's fine!!”

“Done!” Hanta suddenly announced. You turned to look at him as he tossed the salt carton to the side and brushed his palms off. He gave you a wink and a bow. “Your circle has been reinforced!”

“Thanks,” you said dryly, then spun back around once Denki let out a small shriek. You hid a small smile behind your hand as Katsuki towered over Denki with a sadistic-looking grin on his face. You prayed for the incubus when you saw Katsuki had somehow managed to snatch up the water gun. He pointed it at Denki’s face, right between his golden eyes that crossed to look at it.

“Fucker,” Katsuki snarled through gritted teeth. He then leaned down closer to Denki’s face. “Run.”

“Aaaand that’s our cue to leave!” Hanta said cheerfully as Denki yelped and ducked away from Katsuki spraying the water gun at him. The incubus cursed and made a mad dash for the front door.

“Abort!! Abort!!” he yelled, waving his hands to get Mina to open the door for him. “Crazy demon on the loose!!”

“Get the fuck back here!!!”

“Bye!!” Mina called out to you as she opened the door to let Denki through, followed by a raging Katsuki who’d shifted to his normal form the moment before he left the house. “Keep us updated on this whole situation!”

“Stay strong!” Eijirou encouraged you, flexing one of his arms to emphasize his point. The wolf ears on his head disappeared, his teeth changing to look less sharp and more normal. “Don’t let him bully you into conceding!!”

“Good luck, soldier!” Hanta added, giving you a wave as he slouched his way to the front door as well, the fangs in his mouth shortening. You chuckled and gave them a farewell, watching as they disappeared onto the streets and headed in the direction of Denki’s faint screaming.

For a moment, a very quiet moment, you were alone. A faint smile lingered on your face as you looked around, sighing at the thick circle of salt around you and the discarded carton at the side. You walked over to pick it up and set it on your little coffee table, then wondered if you’d have enough time to use the bathroom. You might as well. So you jogged over to the bathroom to freshen up at lightning speed. If you inhaled too deeply, you could smell the aftermath of Katsuki’s bath—the caramel scent that hovered in the air. You shook your head and washed your hands, then headed back to the living room to plop down on your beanbag and wait for Katsuki’s eventual return once he got tired of beating up his friend.

Lo and behold, not even ten minutes later he came stalking back through the front door, grumbling under his breath about this and that. You looked over at him, expression softening, once he stormed his way into the living room and crossed his arms.

And the way he pouted at you, lines of irritated pink spanning across his torso and face from the holy water, nearly made you cave at that exact instance.

“I hope you didn’t mess Denki up too much,” you commented lightly, sinking down further into your beanbag.

Katsuki let out a low growl and pulled the water gun from his pocket to toss onto the floor. He stared pointedly at you, a deep huff escaping his lips. “Ya gonna leave or what?” Typical of him to ignore your statements. You nearly rolled your eyes at him.

When all you did was give him an expectant look and a raised eyebrow, he snarled, his fists clenching. The hair on his head bristled and his tail snapped to the side. He was starting to get even more irritated, you could tell. “I swear once ya get outta that damn circle, babe, ’m gonna fuck you up.”

“Oh?” You leaned towards him, tilting your head. You had to bite back a smile. “Is that a threat?”

A scowl spread across his face and you would rather die than admit that your heart rate spiked at his following words. “‘S a goddamn promise.”

---

It was getting harder and harder to ignore Katsuki as the time ticked by.

You’d been doing so well earlier, content with ignoring him and watching your show. But he seemed to have caught on to your shift in mood. You didn’t know how. You just couldn’t stop thinking of what he threatened to do to you—what he promised—and now you were slightly out of it, thanks to him. He knew, he fucking knew, that the way you kept zoning out was because of him. And he used that to his goddamn advantage for the next few hours. You had to plug in your earbuds to try to ignore him.

“Sweetheart,” he called to you in that dangerously low voice. The one that made something stir in the pit of your stomach. Your jaw tensed. He only used that particular nickname when he was up to no good. “Oi. Look at me.” You refused to. “Look at me, right now.” Nope, not going to happen, no matter how hot he sounded.

Something shot you in the face.

You spluttered, wiping a hand across your face at the water that had nailed you right in the forehead. Your eyes darted over to Katsuki, a grumpy frown sliding onto your face when you saw him holding that stupid water gun he’d stolen from Denki. He smirked at you as he leaned against one of the living room walls, sitting down on the ground in a way where one of his legs was bent near his chest and the other was splayed on the floor. He still had those pink lines across his face and chest. You wondered when they would fade away, only to jump when he shot you again with the water gun.

“Katsuki!” you seethed, using your fingers to wipe the water from your cheek. “Stop that! You’ll get my laptop wet!!”

He only smirked wider, crueler, and sprayed you again. You grumbled and rubbed your eyes. Diluted holy water kind of stung. “Look at you,” he snickered, “gettin’ all wet ‘cause of me, hah?”

“Katsuki!” you shouted, appalled at his choice of words. Something twisted in your stomach, heat spreading across your cheeks. “That’s not gonna make me leave!”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head and moved the gun so he could shoot water at your thighs. You glared at him, using a hand to wipe the droplets away. “Ya gotta eventually, babe. And once you do,” his teeth bared at you, sharp, “‘M gonna drag that pretty ass to the bedroom and rip that little skirt—”

“Katsuki!!”

“—right off those pretty legs and stick my fing—”

“No!!” You exclaimed, your face burning up as you snatched an empty water bottle from the table and chucked it at him. He lifted a lazy hand and batted it away, his smirk widening at your scandalized expression. “Bakugou Katsuki if you say another word—”

“You’ll what?” he drawled, leaning his head back against the wall. Crimson eyes pierced through you, reading you like you were an open book. “‘Cause I guarantee I’ll do worse.”

You clamped your mouth shut and fumed at him. You hated the way he could make you flustered with just his words. You let out a hmph and turned away from him, raising the volume up on your laptop so you didn’t have to listen to him anymore.

And it worked, for about an hour or so. You couldn’t hear him, couldn’t really entirely see him as he sat outside the circle. He sprayed you a few more times with the water gun, but you just ignored him some more and he eventually stopped. You were able to calm down and reel in your emotions, getting ensnared in the plot of the episode you were watching. You were aware of Katsuki pacing around outside the circle, and when you finally lowered the volume down once more, you could hear him cursing and growling. He was frustrated, terribly so, but you only sat there and waited.

Then the doorbell rang. Again.

You looked up with raised eyebrows, watching as Katsuki grumbled and slouched his way over to the front door. He wasn’t shifting to his human form, so you assumed it was someone he had called over himself. Sure enough, once he opened the door, you were greeted by the nervous figure of Izuku, to your surprise.

“Deku,” Katsuki grunted, stepping to the side to let said man in. “‘Bout fuckin’ time.” Izuku slid into the house and stammered out a greeting to the demon, before he walked over to the living room to greet you.

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” you asked him confusedly, setting your laptop on the table so you could stand up warily. Your eyes glanced from Izuku’s apologetic expression to Katsuki’s grumpy one. Something in your stomach sank slightly. This couldn’t be good for you.

“Well! Kacchan told me about, uh, what you were doing,” he scratched his freckled cheek as he glanced at the ash-blond, “and um, well, he kinda… kinda threatened? Me? To get rid of the circle. So! I uh, had to come over.” Your eyes widened and you glared at Katsuki for a moment—the bastard had the gall to smirk slightly at you—before you looked at Izuku who was shuffling closer to the circle. Part of you wondered how desperate Katsuki had been to have resorted to asking Izuku for help, even if they were on somewhat good terms now.

“Izuku, no, please don’t,” you nearly begged him, tensing your legs when he came to a stop near the circle and knelt down. “This is between Katsuki and I, you don’t need to—”

“Ah, I’m really sorry,” Izuku only grimaced at you, his green eyes darting over to Katsuki again before he looked up at you. “I’m really, really sorry. But I ah, I owe Kacchan a favor and um, I really can’t say no to him, either way. I’m sorry.”

“Izuku,” you tried one more time, then pouted when he touched two fingers to the salt circle. You took a couple steps back, your body tensing as Izuku’s fingertips glowed a light turquoise. The color spread to the entire circumference of the circle, and before you knew it, it had disappeared. Vanished, in a flash. Fuck.

Izuku stood up and gave you another apologetic look. You tensed up, eyes locked onto Katsuki who stared back at you dangerously. Warningly. “I’ll um, just head out. Bye! And sorry, again.”

You and Katsuki just continued to stare at each other as Izuku made his way back to the front door. You bent your legs, watching as Katsuki’s wings slowly extended out to make himself larger, his hands sharpening into claws. He bent forward, a wicked smirk on his face. There was nothing separating the two of you now. You swallowed thickly. His tail flicked side to side slowly.

The front door opened, then shut. A beat passed.

You shrieked as Katsuki lunged towards you, ducking down under him as he sailed over you. He snarled something, but you couldn’t hear what exactly it was over the sound of your racing heart. You rolled out of the way as he lunged for you again, his face twisted into a furious scowl.

“Babe, c’mere!” he roared out, swiping a hand at you that you narrowly dodged by leaping to the left. The temperature in the room spiked, the hairs on your arms stood up. And you turned on your heels and made a mad dash for your bedroom, trying to escape the sharp grip of Katsuki.

But well, he was a demon. And you were not.

A hot hand latched onto your arm. You yelped as you were tugged back and around. Katsuki twirled you so that you were facing him and both his hands clamped down on your arms. You were forced to look up at his frowning face as he loomed over you, drowning you in his form, his scent, once more. You let out a huff.

“I’m still mad at you,” you said flatly as you turned your head and stuck your nose up at him. He growled, something you felt through his chest as his hands moved so that he could lower himself down further and wrap his arms around your waist, pressing you against him. He nudged at the side of your head with his own. You continued to ignore him, stubbornly staring out at the side instead of at him.

“Hey,” he nudged you again, “hey, look at me.”

“No,” you replied sternly, turning your head further when he started to nose at your cheek. You were limp in his hold, not reciprocating his affections as he bopped your head with his own and dragged his nose down the side of your face, your neck. You had to suppress a shiver at the feel of his hot breath along your exposed skin. “I said no Katsuki!”

He grumbled and pressed a light kiss at the base of your neck. You leaned away, as much as you could, anyways. He let out a deep sigh. “Okay, ‘m sorry.” You peeked an eye open at him.

“For?”

“For movin’ your shit,” he replied shortly, pressing another kiss to the side of your neck, before he bit down lightly at your skin. You sighed quietly, and once he let go, you turned your head so you could look at him properly, one of your eyebrows raised.

“And?” you pressed on expectantly. Katsuki let out a huff.

“And makin’ fun of your height,” he added on begrudgingly, arms tightening around you. There was a moment where you just watched him, squinting your eyes slightly. He waited for your response, that signature pout soon forming on his face.

You rolled your eyes. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” You wiggled your arms out from his hold and reached up to hold his face. He leaned further into your touch, closing his eyes when your thumbs ran over the pink marks still on his cheeks. “Aww, poor baby. You missed me that much, hm?”

“‘M not a baby,” he mumbled out as you raised yourself up so you could press a gentle kiss to his right cheek. Then to his left. You could see the tips of his ears turn pink. “Don’t y’ever do that shit again, got it?”

“Mmhm.” You hummed as you squished his face together between your palms and leaned away so you could look at him. Katsuki opened his eyes to look at you, and the drunk look he had made your heart squeeze in your chest. You raised yourself back up to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips, smiling into them when he held you closer. Tighter. If only the world knew that big bad demon Katsuki fell apart with a single touch from you.

When you pulled apart, you had but a moment’s notice before you felt yourself being picked up. You let out a small yelp, feeling yourself get tossed over one of Katsuki’s thick shoulders. You gripped onto his wings for dear life, feeling them flex under your touch.

“Katsuki, what are you doing?!” you muffled out, your face pressed to his bare back. When he responded, you could practically hear the sharp grin in his voice, one of his hands raising to give you a firm slap on the ass. Your face burned, gut bottoming out in anticipation.

“Made a promise, didn’t I?”